


Seventy-Two Hours.

by tonnyerenthing



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Battle Royale AU, M/M, Survival Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonnyerenthing/pseuds/tonnyerenthing
Summary: Seventy-two hours to make it out alive, intact, together.Izumi. All that matters is Leo-kun.Hokuto. Tomoya will make it out of here even if it kills me.Chiaki. We'll protect our boys, we'll make it out of here together, all five of us, right?Kanata. Chiaki, I am sorry, I am not going to be the kind of hero you want me to be.





	1. Prologue

**Jin.**

**Three days earlier.**

 

“Akiyan.” My voice is quiet. “You’re not seriously going to just let all the students participate in this right? You were part of the last ‘culling’, right?”

“I was, yes.”

“Then you should know better than anyone how horrible of an idea this is.”

“Most of them will be fine.”

“Akiyan!” I’m appalled. “They’re just children!”

He gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “Hidaka-senpai and Akehoshi-senpai survived, didn’t they? I’m sure their boys will, too.”

I run a hand through my hair in frustration. “You should know very well that they’re not their parents! Hidaka and Akehoshi are _sixteen_. They’re not special cases like Mikejima or Shinkai, either. How can you be so… so _cold_ about your own students?”

Akiyan doesn’t look at me and his voice is small. “This is just how it’s done. You don’t understand, it’s all preparation for the real world of idols.”

I stand and put my hands on his shoulders. “Akiyan. Do you _really_ want all these children to experience what you did? I’ve heard you screaming in your sleep. You have nightmares about what happened to this day. We _have_ to do something, anything! Do you really think Morisawa can handle this? He’s not in the greatest condition physically, you know this.”

“He’ll be fine. Shinkai-kun will be with him. Look, Jin, there’s really nothing we can do about it. If it’s what the higher-ups want, it’s what the higher-ups want.”

It feels like I’m grasping at straws trying to convince him to do something. There has to be something we can do. Even if it’s just getting the first-years exempt from it.

“Akiyan… Akiomi. We have to _try_. Even if it’s something as small as getting the first-years out of this, we need to save at least _some_ of them. You know best how low the survival rate of this is. You… You can’t possibly _not_ want to protect these boys.”

He grabs hold of my right wrist with his left hand. I look him in the eye and he averts his gaze. Any anger I had slips away when I notice tears welled up in his eyes.

“Jin… I want to protect them so horribly badly.”

“Then… Then, please, help me try to save them.”

“We can’t save them. Akehoshi-senpai and Hidaka-senpai tried to save my class, but they failed. They went to the police, newspapers, corporations that fund the school… but there was nothing that they could do. They were either ignored or told that there wasn’t anything like that happening.”

Dread bubbles painfully in my chest. “There’s no way…”

“I think… I think Akehoshi-senpai just _knew_ that his boy was going to be part of the next round. I saw him come out of the Headmaster’s office two days before my class left and he was crying while saying to Hidaka-senpai, ‘our boys are going to have to do it, Hidaka, our boys are going to have to do it, too.’ I doubt Akehoshi-kun remembers, but after that a little boy who looked just like him came running up calling him ‘papa’.”

“So, what you’re saying is… this… this has been planned for… for _years_ in advance?” Akiyan doesn’t say anything. He just nods and lets himself cry. I slide my hands off his shoulders and pull him into a hug. “We’ll find a way. We’ll find some way to keep all of them alive.”

Akiyan’s voice is thick with tears. “I’m going to help you. We’ll keep them alive somehow.”

 


	2. Day One. Izumi: Nothing to fear anymore.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Would you not kill someone to protect the people you love?"

**Hours remaining: 72.**

None of this is making any sense. First, all school activities—club _and_ unit activities—are canceled for the next week. Second, we get rounded up and tossed onto a bus without any windows and given something that made us all sleep. Third, we all wake up in our respective classrooms in an abandoned school on some deserted island. Lastly, there’s the note for us and bags left on each of our desks. Mikejima is reading the note over.

“So.” he starts. “Essentially we have seventy-two hours to just ‘stay alive by any means necessary’ and that ‘the bag on your desk contains the supplies and tools needed to survive.’”

“Lemme see.” Morisawa takes the note from him. “You left out something important! This is a survival game. To survive… to survive we have to kill one another until ‘there’s only a small group remaining’.”

I immediately think of Leo-kun. There’s no way he could kill someone, much less a classmate. I’m certain he’s composing right now and not paying attention to anything. I have time to discuss this with my class.

“Where’s Tenshouin and Hasumi, anyways? They can’t possibly be exempt from this just because they’re part of the Student Council, right?”

“Come to think of it,” Morisawa replies. “I don’t think I saw either of them on the bus. But… everything is pretty hazy, so, I might just be having trouble remembering from whatever it is they gave us that put us to sleep.”

Hakaze shrugs. “I guess the smart thing to do is find our juniors and try to keep them alive. I mean, as much as I like the guy, Kanata-kun gives off a vibe that he’d be perfectly okay with killing someone. Don’t you think, Morrichi?”

Morisawa rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I love Kanata to pieces, but you’re right. He can say some pretty disconcerting things sometimes. Even though he gives off that vibe, I don’t think he actually would.”

I look him in the eye; my mind made up. “Would you not kill someone to protect the people you love?”

The two look at me, their faces alarmed, clearly unsure how to respond to that. All I have to do is keep him alive for seventy-two hours. I give a dismissive wave of my hand and tell them that we should go gather our juniors and find someplace to keep them safe. They agree with me.

“Here’s to hoping we make it out to the other side.”

“Good luck, Sena, Hakaze.”

“Die here and I’ll kill you.”

We look at one another. Hakaze smiles, Morisawa grins, and I hold out my fist for what might be our last fist bump. We bump fists with a loud, _yoshi!_ We laugh together and go our separate ways.

**Hours remaining: 70.**

“Oi, Leo-kun!” I poke my head into the doorway of the next class. He is, predictably, sitting on the floor and scribbling in his notebook. I walk over to him and keep in mind that I have to protect him. He hums as he composes and I sit next to him, ignoring how dirty my pants are going to get, so I can hear better. From the sounds of it, what he has in mind is slow and somber. Knowing him, it’s probably all strings and wind instruments with percussion for harmony.

I peek over his shoulder and, as far as I can tell, what he’s writing now is for the violin. It’s messily written, but I’ve gotten used to it. The notes slide up and down smoothly in a combination of eighths and sixteenths that’s in three-four time. He stops his soft hum and I pick up where he left off, following the notes as he writes them. This seems to ‘inspire’ him further and he hums with me, lilting into the upper register and then slipping gently down to the lower.

When he finally sets his pen down, I mumble, “It’s beautiful.”

He opens his mouth, but before he can speak there’s a loud scream from down the hall. Panic shoots through my veins. _I have to protect him_. I stand, run to the closest desk, and dump out the contents of the bag on top of it. A metal baseball bat falls to the floor with a sharp _clang!_ It’ll do. I turn, grab him by the wrist, and tug him behind me. He needs to be somewhere safe. Where on this entire damned island could possibly be safe?

He less runs and is more dragged behind me. I stop at a classroom with an open door. My mouth falls open and I can hear him squeak at what we find. Shinkai is inside. Shinkai is holding an axe. Shinkai is covered in blood. Shinkai is covered in Kuma-kun’s older brother’s blood. I swallow hard, tighten my grip on his wrist, start running again. He _will_ live. I don’t care if it kills me, I will keep him alive at all costs. I’m not paying attention to the floor and that’s how I slip. I slip on a large puddle of blood coming from the last classroom by the staircase and can feel my lip split open when I tumble face-first to the laminate.

“Sena!” He rushes to my side and holds the side of my face gingerly.”Sena, are you alright?”

My mouth really fucking hurts and my agent really isn’t going to like this. There’s so much care and concern in those brilliant green eyes of his it makes my heart skip a beat.

I stutter. “I… Yeah, I-I’m fine. We… we should get going. Should keep moving.” I reach over and grab the bat.

His voice is small when he says, “You… you’re not _really_ going to kill anyone, are you?”

“Only for you.”

“Eh? How do you mean?”

I lean my forehead against his. “If it were to protect you, or to save you, or to keep you out of harm’s way I would. I’d kill someone, but only for you.”

“But, Sena, we’re not sacrificial pawns for some sort of sick game. None of us are.”

His innocence pains me. I take his face in both of my hands and kiss him. Gently, sweetly, trying to burn the moment into my memory.

“Leo, I love you. It’s my turn now, I’m going to protect you.” I kiss him again. “You have no idea how much I regret just leaving your house when I came to drop those papers off that day. I’m not going to let you go, not again. Never again.”

“Then let’s go.” His voice is soft. “We’ll find Rittsu and the others and we’ll stay safe. We’ll stay together. I’m not letting you go, either.”

“Okay.” I drop my hands down to hold onto his. Together we stand, his right hand holding tightly to my left, the bat held firmly in my other hand. “Let’s go. Let’s go together.”

**Hours remaining: 65.**

We’ve been running up and down the hallways of the school for hours now, on the hunt for the rest of our unit members. We found Kasa-kun in a fistfight with Momo-kun, but haven’t seen any trace of Kuma-kun or Naru-kun. The three of us pause to catch our breath. I look over at Kasa-kun and his lower lip is split open, there’s a yellow-green bruise forming under his left eye, and the knuckles of both fists are rubbed raw from punching Momo-kun.

Leo-kun is breathing harder than Kasa-kun and I are. Which is his own fault for skipping out on dance practices. He’s still holding onto my hand and hasn’t let go since we set out to find the rest of our unit. The more hours that pass by, the more blood we find on the floor and walls. The more screams we hear echoing from different parts of the school. Some are screams of pain, and others are clearly full of grief. Like the one coming from the floor above us. Wails interspersed with the words, _Akehoshi! No! Akehoshi, please! Akehoshi, Akehoshi!_

Kasa-kun whispers, “Something… something must have happened to Akehoshi-senpai. Should we… should we go see if he’s okay?”

I shake my head. “Nn-nn. We need to keep moving. There’s probably nothing you can do for him now, anyways.”

A loud gulp. A blanched face. A mumbled, “Okay…” then, “Sena-senpai?”

I swallow hard. I’m exhausted as though I’ve performed every live I’ll ever take part of in my entire life all at the same time. “What is it, Kasa-kun?”

“Is Leader alright? He hasn’t been saying much…”

I look over at him. Leo-kun is caked in sweat, panting, leaning over with his free hand pressed against his thigh. He looks as tired as I feel.

“He’s fine, just tired.” He doesn’t need to say anything for me to understand how he’s feeling. He’s tired, he’s scared, he’s worried that I might have to hurt someone. He desperately wishes we were somewhere else. He desperately wishes that we were anywhere but here. I squeeze his hand. “Let’s check the teachers’ office next.”

Kasa-kun nods. I tug on his arm. He looks at me and those brilliant green eyes have lost their brightness. A sharp, sudden, almost excruciating pain blossoms in my chest. I want to ignore it, I want to pretend I didn’t notice, but I’ll never forget. It’s just like before. I grit my teeth and force determination to keep me going. I’m not going to let him lose the people he can be himself around. The three of us start our panicked run again. My lungs constrict, my throat burns from breathing so heavily, my legs grow weak, but I keep running. I keep an iron-clad hold on his hand.

Down the last stretch of this hallway, down staircase after staircase, down past bodies of classmates, down through puddles of blood, down, down, down, leaving red footprints behind us. Look behind every few meters to make _sure_ he’s still there. Try to block out every unsettling scream resounding throughout the school. Try to block out the worry for Hakaze and Morisawa.

I have to trust in them being able to take care of themselves. Right now, he’s all that matters. All that matters is keeping Leo-kun safe. As long as Leo-kun makes it out of here alive, everything will be fine. An almost imperceptible voice makes me stop in my tracks. Leo-kun bumps into my back and I almost fall down again. _Ricchan…_

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Kasa-kun is frowning at me.

“Listen closely.” _Ricchan…_ I strain to place where the voice is coming from. There’s a lull in the screaming echoing around the school and I can hear it more clearly. _Ricchan…_

Kasa-kun perks up. “I hear it, too! That name is familiar somehow…”

I take advantage of the lull and force myself to block out the rest of the noise around me. It’s… there! I spin around on my heel and run two classrooms back. I know that voice: it’s Kuma-kun’s Trickstar boy that he’s so fond of. Leo-kun and Kasa-kun trail behind me and the three of us all collectively gasp when I slam the door open. What we find inside the classroom is Kuma-kun and his Trickstar boy. My face pulls into disgust.

Kuma-kun is attached to his Trickstar boy by the neck and when I examine him closely I panic. I run forward, crouch down, grab the Trickstar boy’s wrist and palpate.

“Fuck! He’s in hypovolemic shock!” Cold, clammy skin. Shallow, rapid breathing. High heart rate. Pulse so weak I can barely feel it beneath my fingertips. “Leo-kun, Kasa-kun! We need to get Kuma-kun off him _now!_ ”

Leo-kun and I both grab Kuma-kun by the waist and pull backwards as hard as we can. We’re met with struggling and an uncharacteristic growl. It takes our combined adrenaline fueled strengths to finally get him off. The Trickstar boy groans and slumps over, hitting the floor on his side with a dull _thump_. Kuma-kun continues to struggle, hitting the side of my jaw with his elbow, pulling at Leo-kun’s hair with his free hand.

I grunt and shout, “Kasa-kun! Punch him! As hard as you can!”

“But… Ritsu-senpai is…”

“He’s going to kill that Trickstar boy if we don’t force him to snap out of this!”

Leo-kun joins in. “Suoo! Just do it! We can’t hold him off much longer! Sena has to get the Trickstar guy first aid, like, _now!_ Hurry!”

Kasa-kun grimaces, curls his right hand into a fist, then shouts, “Ritsu-senpai, I’m sorry!”

I can _hear_ Kuma-kun’s jaw dislocate when Kasa-kun’s fist connects with his face. Finally the struggling stops. I let go and run over to the Trickstar boy. I sit down on my knees, gulp, palpate the carotid artery, lean down and put my ear up against his chest to gauge his breathing since I can’t physically see the rise and fall. The pulse is weak even in the carotid, sweating profusely, breathing is even more rapid than it was before, inhalation is just barely deep enough to ward off hypoxia. He needs a blood transfusion _immediately_ or he seriously will die. I squeeze my eyes shut and think. My blood type is A, but… if he doesn’t also have type A then…

“Leo-kun.” My voice is quiet.

“S-Sena? What is it?”

I don’t want to do this, but I can’t just let him die. “What’s your blood type?”

“Eh? I have type O… why do you ask?”

“The Trickstar boy needs a blood transfusion or he’ll die.” The room goes silent. I turn my head to look at him. “Leo-kun. Please. We don’t have any other choice.”

**Hours remaining: 58.**

We’re holed up in the infirmary. Kuma-kun is sitting in a corner sobbing, I’m disposing of my third pair of nitrile gloves, Leo-kun is leaning up against a wall drinking water, Kasa-kun is rummaging through drawers in the cabinet looking for something, the Trickstar boy is lying on a bed. I had Kasa-kun prop his feet up, then lucked out in finding set of empty IV fluid bags. I had Leo-kun fill one, immediately pulled out the sharp, put in a clean one, hung the IV bag on the wall, then carefully slipped the needle into the brachial artery.

Kuma-kun hasn’t stopped muttering, “Maa-kun… I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m so, so, so sorry…” since he came back to his senses. I sit down next to Leo-kun and let out a long sigh.

“How’s he doing?” His voice is low and slightly hoarse. I look away when I catch a glimpse of the large yellow-green bruise surrounding his right arm’s brachial.

“He’s doing better. His heart rate is back to normal, but his blood pressure is still low. We’re not going to be able to move him for a while.”

“How long is ‘a while’?”

I sigh and he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Depends on how fast the recovery is. At best I’d say a couple of hours. We’re stuck here until then.”

I lean into his side and try to relax. I’d forgotten how warm he is. I swing my legs across his lap and curl up against him. How could I have forgotten that it’s so relaxing to be here, pressed up close together, enjoying how easily his curves match up with mine.

“You did the right thing.” His voice is soft.

“How do you mean?”

“You saved his life, Sena. You saved his life, even though you didn’t want to have to make me give him as much blood as he needs. You kept Rittsu from killing someone despite the rules of this sick game we’re being forced to play.”

“Leo-kun…” My voice is soft. “I don’t know, I… I saw him and I just couldn’t let him die. I wasn’t even thinking about how upset Kuma-kun would be. I just… had to save him. I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, remember? I know you enough to understand without being told anything, Sena.”

I slide my arms around his waist and pull him as close to me as I can. I’m exhausted and want to fall asleep, but. I can’t. I have to stay awake. I have to keep him from harm’s way.

**Hours remaining: 50.**

He started to feel sick, so, in the end we split up from Kasa-kun and Kuma-kun and made our way down to the cafeteria kitchen to get something vaguely nutritious for him to eat and get all his nutrients back up. It’s night now, and the school has become eerily silent. The silence is making me anxious. It’s too quiet. I have the feeling that we’re not alone somehow, even though the hallway we’re sitting in is deserted.

Leo-kun is asleep, lying up against the wall with his head resting on his knees, while I sit on the opposite side of the hallway. Watching over him, gripping the bat with both hands, listening, hiding in the dark. I watch and think. Is there a heaven, a hell? Will I come back? Who can tell? What would my parents be told if I die here? Here and now, I can see what matters to me. It’s clear as crystal. Leo-kun and knights are all that matters. Naru-kun, Kasa-kun, Kuma-kun, Leo-kun… my life is expendable as long as they make it out of here alive. As long as he makes it out of here alive.

Footsteps break the silence. I stand and freeze. Closer, closer, closer. It’s Anzu. She approaches him from the side with a brick in her hand, raised to strike the back of his head with it. I grab her wrist and squeeze so hard I can hear the sharp _crack!_ of the radius and ulna shattering. I have to protect Leo-kun at all costs.

“A-n-zu-cha-n. What do you think you’re doing?” My voice is thick with malice. “You didn’t think I would just _let_ you hurt your dear senpai, did you?”

I grab her upper arm and force the elbow joint to snap in half, rendering her entire left arm useless. I let go and she falls to the floor cradling her now cracked, broken, and bleeding arm against her chest. The upper end of the radius is sticking out of what used to be delicate pale skin. I pick up the dented metal bat that lies on the floor next to my feet. I bring it up and swing. I put all of my weight behind it and the bat connects with her temple that resounds throughout the hallway with a loud _cru_ _n_ _ch!_ followed by the unmistakable _splat!_ of blood caking the tile.

Fourty-eight more hours. I have to protect him. I can’t mess this up. I can’t fail him. I _won’t_ fail him. Never again. No matter what it takes. I’ll dirty my hands so he doesn’t have to. I drop the bat and pick her up by the arms, dragging her into the room across from where Leo-kun sleeps. She’s heavy and the snapped elbow joint rips apart when I give a sharp pull. I fall backwards, banging my head against the thick wooden door and hissing, her left forearm still in my hand. The blood dripping from the joint stains my slacks and the other half oozes into a large pool that edges closer to him.

I panic and ignore the throbbing in my skull, grabbing her feet and grunting from effort. I leave a thick trail of blood behind me. Thick, red, smeared by her clothes and hair, permeating the air with the smell and taste of iron. I unceremoniously dump her at the back of the classroom and I have to be _sure_. I walk out, pick up the bat and arm, then shut the door behind me. He can’t see this. I toss her arm down, then swing down with adrenaline-fueled excessive force. _Crack._ Again. _Crunch._

“I. Won’t. Let. Any. Of. You. Hurt. Him. Ever. Again!” I bring the bat down in between every word. I fall to my knees, still clutching the bat in my right hand, and look at the mess I’ve made. Her face is unrecognizable. I don’t need to look hard to know that her skull is in tiny pieces. I take a deep, shuddering breath and stand. I need to wake Leo-kun and hide him. I walk out and don’t look back. I’m keeping him safe this time. I’m not messing up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got enamored with the idea of a battle royale au and this is the result


	3. Day One. Hokuto: Is it okay to be crazy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Subaru... You're my best friend, too."

**Day One. Hokuto.**

**Hours remaining: 72.**

Anzu, Akehoshi, Yuuki, Isara, Sakasaki and I are standing together in what is, technically, our classroom—well, excluding Isara—2-A. The entirety of the school has been thrust together onto some deserted island that no one remembers getting to. Collectively, all we can remember is school and unit activities being canceled for the week, told we’re going on some sort of school trip, getting onto the bus, then a period of darkness, and finally waking up in the 2-A classroom in an abandoned school building.

Right now, Isara is reading aloud a note that was left in both our classrooms and, we’re assuming, all the other classes. The note goes as follows:

_Welcome, Yumenosaki Students! You’ve been chosen to be part of the_ _23_ _rd_ _Idol Survival Game._

_You may have noticed, but you’re currently on an abandoned island and there is no way to leave it until the Idol Survival Game is over. You have three days to survive by any means necessary. The bag on your desks contains all the supplies and tools needed to survive the next seventy-two hours._

_The goal of the Idol Survival Game is to kill one another until there’s only a small group remaining at the end of your allotted three days. This game is set up to prepare you for the nature of being in the idol industry after you graduate._

_You’ll also find that your cellphones do not work on this island, this is a preventative measure to ensure your full participation and keep you from attempting to leave before the three days are over._

_Good luck and stay alive!_

After reading it Isara says, “What the actual fuck? A survival game? How does that prepare us for after we graduate?”

Akehoshi is looking at the floor and frowning. I sigh and know he couldn’t kill anyone, especially not classmates.

“I don’t think this is a trick.” My voice is flat. Akehoshi wouldn’t kill anyone and neither would Tomoya. I’ll have to protect them, keep them safe, keep them alive. “It says that this is the twenty-third time this has happened. In any case, we should look at the contents of our individual bags.”

I pick up my bag and find it to be ridiculously heavy. Opening it, I find that it’s heavy because inside of it is a sledgehammer. Included with that are three bottles of water, what looks like freeze dried army rations, and a map of the island. Akehoshi has pulled out what looks like a switchblade, Anzu a large brick, Isara a regular hammer, and Yuuki a folding paper fan. The five of us all stare down at the fan.

Yuuki stutters. “Wha… I… how does that help me?”

“I have no idea…” Anzu’s voice is quiet. “I can see the usefulness of a brick, but a fan?”

“Whatever.” Isara’s voice is full of frustration. “Let’s go get the people we care about and meet back up here, I mean, the rules say ‘a small group’ and there’s safety in numbers, isn’t there?”

We agree and after Anzu, Isara, and Yuuki have left Akehoshi tugs on my sleeve.

“Hokke?”

“What is it?” I’m about to tell him, again, not to call me that, but the dark look in his eyes worries me. I haven’t seen them like that in a long while.

“I just remembered something.”

“Okay, and?” I want him to get to the point already. We’re wasting time and I need to find Tomoya.

“It’s about our dads.” This piques my interest.

“What about them?”

“I remember now, when I was still small, seeing my dad cry only once. He was looking at your dad and I heard him say, ‘our boys are going to have to do it, Hidaka, our boys are going to have to do it, too’.”

“So…” My voice is small. “This… our… our dads had to do this?”

Akehoshi says nothing, just nods. I’m not sure why, but I feel compelled to grab his hand and squeeze it. I do this and hope it’s at least mildly comforting.

“Akehoshi.” He looks up to me and I know that hurt, upset expression. “Stay here. I’ll get Tomoya and your friend, Shino-kun, and bring them back here.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Hide somehow, and… please, stay safe.”

**Hours remaining: 70.**

I left Akehoshi in the 2-A classroom and started my search for Tomoya and Shino-kun. I’ve been through all the first year classrooms and resorted to calling out for him.

“Tomoya!” I mutter swear words to myself. I wonder if I can trust Hibiki-buchou with Tomoya’s safety. I’m not sure… I mean, he hasn’t exactly been the kindest to Tomoya. What, with dressing him up, and the kigurumi incident, and misleading him about plays, and making _me_ mislead him, too. I don’t think I can trust Hibiki-buchou at all. Of everyone, if there’s one person safe with him, it’s Sakasaki. Sakasaki is very obviously the favorite out of his juniors.

I stop at the bottom of a staircase and try again, raising my voice, “Tomoya! Where are you!”

I slam doors open, checking in every room I find, starting to panic slightly. I run a hand through my hair and shout, _fuck!_ in frustration. Where is he? Where could he have gone? Did Nito-senpai go get him and hide him or something? I sprint down the hallway, calling his name over and over again, despite my throat starting to burn. _Where the fuck is he?_ That thought repeats itself like a song on repeat. I’m not paying attention, too wrapped up in my thoughts, and slip on a puddle of blood.

The back of my head connects with the laminate tiles and I let out a hiss followed by a loud, “Oh, god _damn_ it!”

The realization of what I just slipped in hits me and I stand up, running to the classroom the blood is coming out from. I mutter to myself, _please don’t be Tomoya, please, please don’t be Tomoya_. I bang the door open and first, I’m thankful that it _isn’t Tomoya_. Then, grimace seeing that it’s Sakuma’s older brother. It’s such a grotesque thing to see and blood is so heavy in the air that I immediately bend over and vomit. I dry heave after everything forces itself out of my stomach.

After I stagger out of the classroom: I fall to my knees, shaking, both horrified and disgusted at what I just had to see. I wonder for a moment if Sakuma will be devastated if he sees that. I start dry heaving again from the iron smell. Nothing comes up but bile. When it finally ends, I spit the last remnants of bile and vomit out. Did Dad see something like that? Did he have to _do_ something like that? Am I going to have to do something like that?

That train of thought loops around my head and I’m seriously starting to wish that this is all just a bad dream, that this is something that I’ll wake up from, that any second now I’ll jolt awake in a cold sweat and be at home. I’m not though. I’m not dreaming. At least it’s just me who’s seeing this. At least Akehoshi isn’t here to see this. I don’t think he’d be able to handle that. No, I _know_ he wouldn’t be able to handle that. Akehoshi is safe from… from _that_ and that’s what matters.

I force myself to stand and keep looking for Tomoya and Shino-kun. I’ve gotta find them and bring them back. I’ve gotta keep Akehoshi, Tomoya, and Shino-kun safe. I’ve gotta protect them. I swallow hard, determination burning in my chest, and start running again.

“Tomoya! Shino-kun! Where are you!?” I repeat those five words over and over, as loud as I can, trying to make myself heard over the screams. I _need_ to find them. I’m going to get them out of here alive. I’ll protect the three of them, no matter what the cost is. I won’t let them fall victim to the same end that Sakuma’s older brother did. They’re going to grow old, even if it kills me.

**Hours remaining: 67.**

I’ve run up and down the first, second, third, and fourth floors of the school calling out for Tomoya and Shino-kun. I can’t find them and that worries me. My anxiety grows with every passing minute that I can’t find them. I pause, lean over, press my hands against my thighs, and try to catch my breath. My throat is sore from all my yelling and every swallow hurts. My breathing is heavy. My legs are weak. The only thing keeping me going now is my need to find them. A scream coming from the third floor pulls me out of my thoughts. A very, very familiar scream.

“Akehoshi!” I sprint down the hallway, try to make it back to 2-A as fast as possible. Trip over my feet and tumble down both staircases. Ignore the searing pain all over my body. I have to make it back to him. I burst into the classroom and immediately scream. Oogami is standing over Akehoshi. Oogami is holding the knife that Akehoshi pulled from his bag. Akehoshi is lying on the floor. Akehoshi is lying on the floor in a pool of blood that’s stained his sweater completely.

Oogami moves towards me. I heft the sledgehammer in both hands. Shout, _you bastard!_ Swing the sledgehammer. Miss. Swing again. Connect with Oogami’s hip. Push him out of the classroom. Lock the door. Rip off my blazer. Run to Akehoshi. Sit down on my knees by his side. Press down on his abdomen with my blazer to try and stop the bleeding. Akehoshi groans in pain.

“A-Akehoshi, it-it’s going to be okay, it’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine.” My hands grow damp from warm, syrupy, thick blood. I bite my lip. Tears well up in my eyes.

“H-Hokke…” I don’t look at his face. I focus as much as I can on slowing the bleeding. My lower lip trembles. “Hokke… Hokuto. Look at me.”

I force myself to turn my head. Those bright, brilliant blue eyes have turned dull, dark, and lifeless. I sob. He’s smiling up at me. “A… Ake… Subaru, please, stay here, stay with me, you can’t die, I need you.”

“Hokuto,” he says my name slowly. “You’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

“Subaru…” Hot, sticky tears drip down my cheeks. “You’re my best friend, too. That’s why you have to stay, you _have_ to stay here. Please, I’m begging you, don’t go.”

“Hokuto, you’ll be fine.”

“No, I won’t! I need you here, please!” My voice is full of desperation. Slowly, he brings a trembling hand up and presses it up against the side of my face. “Please… Subaru, please…”

“I’m really, really happy that I met you. If it weren’t for you, Trickstar wouldn’t have become a thing.”

“No, no, no! Subaru, _you_ brought us all together. I-I-I-I’m the leader of Trickstar, but _you’re_ the glue that holds us all together. Please… you have to stay, you can’t leave us… you can’t leave _me_.”

“Hokuto. You’re my best friend. My closest friend. I love you.”

I let out a heavy sob. “And you’re mine, Subaru. I love you, you have to stay.”

“I have to go now,” he closes his eyes. “My dad’s waiting for me.”

I scream. “No! No, no! You can’t! Stay, please, stay, _please!_ Please! I… you… I need you, Subaru! Come on, stay with me! Y-you… you can’t… you can’t go…”

The blood under my hands grows lukewarm. His hand falls from my face to the floor. I give huge, body-wracking sobs that hurt. I wail. Lean forward. Grab onto his sweater. Cry uncontrollably. Hiccup between sobs. Scream from the horrible, excruciating pain of my heart breaking. I lost my best friend. I lost the person who knew me the best, the person who I didn’t have to explain anything to, the person who let me sleepover constantly, the person who didn’t say anything when I had nightmares that made me cry, the person… the person… the person that was like a brother to me.

I lost my best friend. I lost my best friend. _I lost my best friend._

**Hours remaining: 62.**

I finally stand. My grief has given way to fury and determination. I’m going to find Tomoya. I’m going to find him and get him out of here. Tomoya _will_ make it out of here alive. I don’t care how many people I have to kill. I don’t care if it kills me. I’m getting Tomoya out of here no matter what the cost is. I grab the sledgehammer. Rub the last of the tears off my face with the heel of my palm. Lay my blood caked blazer over Subaru’s upper body.

“I’m sorry.” My voice is quiet and hoarse. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

I turn on my heel and walk out of the classroom. I heft the sledgehammer in both of my hands. Grit my teeth. Grip it so hard my knuckles turn white. Shut the door behind me. Walk with purpose. _I’ll get Oogami._ I’ll get him back. I’ll get him back for what he did to Subaru. For what he did to my best friend. My fury and determination burn in my chest so fiercely it almost hurts. Down two flights of stairs. Stop at the end of the hallway.

Scream. “Tomoya, where the fuck are you!?”

Pass by the two Ryuseitai first-years, Sengoku and the ridiculously tall one, ignore their whimpers at the sight of me. Ignore their presence entirely. I have to find Tomoya, then settle the score with Oogami. Oogami will pay for what he did and Tomoya will get out of here alive. My anger drowns out any remaining hesitation to participate in the game. My determination fuels me. Where the _fuck_ is Tomoya! My voice is progressively becoming more and more hoarse. Footsteps coming up behind me make me stop and spin around.

“Sakasaki.”

“I… Hokkee-kun…” His eyes are red and puffy as though he’s been crying. “I’m… I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”

“Sorry for what?” My voice is hard and sharp.

“B-Baru-kun… I just… I’m so sorry…”

I growl in frustration. “Get to the fucking point already! I don’t have time for this!”

“All I could do was watch! I’m sorry! So… so… so sorry…”

“Sakasaki. What’re you talking about?”

“I-I… I went b-back to the classroom to s-see if Sora was there and…” He throws his face in his hands and begins to sob. “Oogami was there… and B-Baru-kun was… and all I could do was watch him do it!”

Drop the sledgehammer. Grab Sakasaki by his shirt collar. He refuses to look at me. My anger burns more intensely. “What. Do. You. Mean. All you could do. Was watch?”

“I-I-I froze up… I couldn’t move…”

“Are you telling me,” I’ve started to scream at him. “you didn’t do anything!? You just watched when you could have done something!?”

“I-I’m sorry… Hokkee-kun… So so s-sorry…”

Let go of his shirt. Bring an arm up and back. Curl my right hand into a fist. Punch Sakasaki. _Hard_. My knuckles pop and start to sting. Sakasaki clutches onto his left cheek and continues sobbing.

“What! The actual fuck! Is wrong with you!? Ake… Subaru would be here right now! How could you just stand there and do _nothing_! He was your friend wasn’t he!?”

I’m so furious I can’t even speak. I pick up the sledgehammer and walk away from him. Behind me, I can hear him fall to his knees and murmur, _I’m sorry… I’m sorry…_

On the second floor, I come across Nito-senpai standing in the doorway of a classroom. I’m about to call out to him, except… something appears to be very, very wrong.

**Nazuna.**

**Hours remaining: 59.**

I stand frozen in the doorway. Watching Itsuki stand in front of Hajimechin and Mitsuruchin with a butcher’s knife in hand.

“O-Oshi-san… What’re you doing with Hajimechin and Mitsuruchin?”

He turns his head to look at me. “Nito. This is none of your concern. Everything will be fine, so, be a doll for me and wait outside.”

A small voice says, _trust Oshi-san._ _Oshi-san knows what’s best. Oshi-san can be trusted. Oshi-san will make sure everything is perfect. If it’s Oshi-san taking care of things, everything will be okay. All we need to do is listen to Oshi-san, just do as Oshi-san says, just be Oshi-san’s doll and nothing can go wrong._

I listen to the voice and almost leave. But. Two little voices whimpering _Nii-chan, please, save us…_ makes me stop. Two soft little sobs drown out the voice. I look at Mitsuruchin and Hajimechin’s faces. Their tear streaked faces. Their glassed over eyes. Their looks screaming fear and _Nii-chan! Help us!_

“No.” My voice is quiet.

“What?” Oshi-san… no. _Itsuki_. Itsuki turns around to look at me.

“No,” My voice is louder. “No! I’m not going to leave!”

“Nito. Just be a doll and wait outside.”

“No! No, no, no!” I walk forward. Grip the hunting knife in my hand tightly. “I’m not going to leave! I won’t leave Mitsuruchin and Hajimechin alone with you!”

“Nito, do as I say.” I fight the voice telling me to listen to him.

“I’m not a doll!” I push the knife into his abdomen. Kneel down at his side when he falls down onto his back. Stab his chest over and over and over. Scream, “I’m not a doll! I’m not a doll! I’m not a doll!”

“N-Nito…”

“I’m! Not! A! Doll!” My voice is high-pitched and full of conviction. “I’m not a doll! I’m not a doll! I am Nito Nazuna and I’m a human being! I’m not listening to you any more! I _won’t_ listen to you any more! I’m a human being, not a doll! I won’t let you order me around! I have a voice! I have a voice and I’m not going to let you make me hide it any more!”

A strange feeling swirls in my chest. Something I think I’ve been trying to find for a long time. I let go of the knife. Eyes wide. Stumble over to my boys and pull them into a tight hug. Burst into tears and start sobbing. Take a deep, shuddering breath. I’m free. That’s the feeling I’ve been searching for. Freedom. _I’m free._ I’m free from that voice telling me to go back, telling me to listen to Itsuki, telling me to leave my boys, telling me I belong in Valkyrie, telling me all I have to do is be a perfect doll and everything will be fine. I cry and cry and cry while holding onto my boys, overwhelmed by the intensity of this newfound feeling of being free.

**Hokuto.**

**Hours remaining: 52.**

I _knew_ I couldn’t trust Hibiki-buchou with Tomoya. I finally found Tomoya backed against a wall in a classroom in the lab room block. I left him with a broken shoulder when he was trying to stab Tomoya with a butterfly knife. After checking him over to make sure he’s alright, I grabbed hold of Tomoya’s hand and ran as fast as I could. I had to put distance between the two of us and Hibiki-buchou.

I’m now pulling Tomoya by the wrist with my right hand and carrying the heavy sledge-hammer in my left. I can hear him sniffling behind me and stop. I turn and look at him. His lower lip is trembling, eyes glassed over, tears pouring down his cheeks that leave track marks through the blood splatters on his face. I drop the sledge-hammer with a bang that cracks the beige floor tiles, then pull him close to me. Tomoya wraps his arms around my neck and wails.

“H-H-Hokuto-senpai!” His voice is thick. “I… I… I was so, so scared.”

I pull back a little and kiss him gently. “That isn’t going to happen ever again. I promise. I’m going to protect you. No matter what the cost is. Tomoya, I swear, we’re getting out of here alive.”

Footsteps at the end of the hallway draw my attention. Oogami. I tell Tomoya to get into the classroom behind me and lock the door. “Don’t open the door for anyone, not even me, unless I say ‘Tomo-kun’. Understand?”

He nods, kisses me, and shuts the door. I pick up the sledge-hammer.

“Oh, study bug! Where are you? Hi-da-ka-ku-n!”

I take a deep breath. I can still see him covered in blood, standing over Subaru. I clutch the sledge-hammer tightly with both hands and steel my nerves. _He killed my best friend._

“I’m right here, Oogami! Come and get me!” I’m going to get Tomoya out of here alive even if it kills me. I won’t let anything else happen to him. Oogami rushes up to me, golf club in hand, and swings. I duck, then let the sledge-hammer fall down onto his shoulder. I can hear the _crunch!_ even through his screaming. He falls to his knees and I push him onto his back with my left foot. I swing and smash the sledge-hammer down into the center of his ribcage.

He screams again and I counter with a louder, “You! Killed! My! Best! Friend!”

I repeat those five words over and over. I drop the sledge-hammer and pick up the golf club Oogami had. I stand over him and with all the strength I have bring it down on his face. I’m filled with rage. Over and over and over screaming _you killed my best friend!_ , over and over and over shattering his jaw, over and over and over blood pooling at my feet, over and over and over blood staining the white shirt of my uniform and littering brilliant red speckles all over my face. I sink to my knees, let go of the golf club, look down at my hands. My hands that are painted red with Subaru’s blood.

I wail. Why? Why did it have to be the one best friend I had? I lost my best friend just to almost lose the love of my life, too. I push my hands against the floor, caking my hands in that same warm, thick, syrupy blood that I had tried to stop from coming out of Subaru. I stand slowly. I’m going to protect Tomoya. I refuse to lose him, too. I’ll protect Tomoya the way I couldn’t protect Subaru. I swallow back tears. I can cry later. Tomoya is the only thing that matters right now.

I’ll kill as many people necessary to get Tomoya out of this hellhole. Even if it destroys me, I’m going to keep him alive. Even if it kills me, I’m going to protect him.

**Hours remaining: 49.**

Tomoya is leaning up against my side, arms wrapped around my waist, sound asleep, mumbling nonsense while he dreams. I, meanwhile, am wired and wide awake. I think. Think, think, think. I think about my dad. About Subaru. About the game we’re being forced to play. About how much time is left until Tomoya and I can go home. About how Yuuki and Isara are doing. About what I saw Nito-senpai do. About what I heard him say.

I think about how I’m going to keep Tomoya safe for the next forty-eight hours. I couldn’t bear to lose him, too. I’m going to keep him safe. I’m going to keep him alive. I’m going to make sure he goes home. I don’t care what the cost is anymore. I don’t care about morality or right and wrong anymore. Nothing matters but Tomoya. Tomoya, Tomoya, Tomoya. He’s all that matters. He’s all that I have left now. So, I’ll protect him with everything I have.

Determination overpowers any grief that had been lingering in my chest. I’ll grieve over Subaru later. After I get Tomoya out of here. I have to keep going for the last person close to me that I have left. Have to keep going, going, going.

I pull Tomoya as close to me as possible, watch the slow rise and fall of his chest, take in the warmth that tells me he’s alive. Whisper into the top of his head, _I love you. I’m going to protect you no matter what. I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> subaru akehoshi and hokuto hidaka are best friends and you cant convince me otherwise


	4. Day One. Chiaki: Betcha Didn't Know That I'm Dangerous.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do not fuck with Ryuseitai."

**Day One. Chiaki.**

**Hours remaining: 72.**

I don’t remember much about the past… hm, something like twelve hours. I remember cramming onto a bus with the rest of my class while the second and first years were loaded into two different buses. So, one for each year. I remember sitting next to Kanata and rambling about nothing particular for a short while, then water was passed around to everyone, and then next thing I know I wake up sitting at my desk, in what is—technically—my class.

There’s an awful crick in my neck from whatever position it was that I slept in, so, to get rid of it I crack each side with a satisfying and tension relieving _pop! pop! Pop!_ I sigh in relief and tune back into what Mikejima-san is saying. I pick up something or other about ‘Idol Game’, ‘three days’, and ‘abandoned island’.

“So.” I do my best to pay attention and not start wondering what Kanata is up to and wind up tuning him out again. “Essentially we have seventy-two hours to just ‘stay alive by any means necessary’ and that ‘the bag on your desk contains the supplies and tools needed to survive.’”

“Lemme see.” I grab the note from Mikejima-san and scan it over. Mostly to make up for the parts I tuned out. “You left out something important! This is a survival game. To survive… to survive we have to kill one another until ‘there’s only a small group remaining’.”

Reading it over is… chilling, to say the least. Sena asks about Hasumi and Tenshouin and says that they can’t be exempt just because they’re part of the Student Council. I play with the bottom of my tie and try to remember if I saw them.

“Come to think of it,” I frown trying to remember. “I don’t think I saw either of them on the bus. But… everything is pretty hazy, so, I might just be having trouble remembering from whatever it is they gave us that put us to sleep.”

Hakaze shrugs at the three of us and says that the smart thing to do is find our juniors and keep them safe. Then he adds, “I mean, as much as I like the guy, Kanata-kun gives off a vibe that he’d be perfectly okay with killing someone. Don’t you think, Morrichi?”

“Well,” I swallow hard. Rub the back of my neck. “I love Kanata to pieces, but you’re right. He can say some pretty disconcerting things sometimes. Even though he gives off that vibe, I don’t think he actually would.”

That is a lie. Kanata would kill someone. When Takamine said that Kanata takes life at his own pace there was a reason I said he’s become more ‘human-like’. What Kanata is, exactly, I’m not sure and he won’t tell me. But… I’m positive that he’s not human, well, not at his core at least.

I’m not entirely focused when Sena, Hakaze, and I wish each other good luck in this survival game whatever and bump fists. I’m thinking about Kanata, but instead of the usual sweet things my thoughts are focused on the darker parts of him. I remember what Mikejima-san replied with when Kanata called him ‘yakuza’. _Othuum_. Othuum: The Oceanic Horror. Sometimes, when the light hits his back just right and he’s swimming in the fountain I’m positive that I can see tentacles coming from his back.

I shake away those thoughts and dig through the bag left on my desk. I find three bottles of water, freeze dried rations, and two knives. The first, and longest, I recognize as a Land/Sea/Air tactical combat knife complete with sheath and thigh strap. The second, is a back-up boot knife. I swipe my thumb across the blades of both and find them to be sharper than even the most expensive razor blade. I strap the boot knife to my calf, underneath my uniform trousers, then give the LSA a few experimental tosses. It’s so sharp it’s almost like the blade is cutting through the air.

With the LSA strapped to my right thigh, the boot knife digging into my calf slightly, both sleeves rolled up past the elbow, and the bag on my back: I’m ready.

**Hours remaining: 70.**

I go into Kanata’s class and, as expected, he’s long gone. What I didn’t expect, however, is the contents of the bag on his desk dumped out on the floor—the bag itself lying empty on the desk—with only the weapon missing. I have a feeling that I know where Kanata’s gone. Sakuma knows the supposed mysteries of Yumenosaki, so, Kanata would go to him and demand answers. I take a deep breath and try to prepare myself for whatever it is that I’m going to see.

Something catches my attention. I crouch down and look closely at the floor. The beige tiles are cracked in a way that suggests whatever weapon it is that Kanata was given is heavy. The way that the cracks extend out from the impact point make me think that the weapon is either an axe or a sledgehammer. The impact point is rectangular, ten centimeters at its widest point, twenty centimeters long, and the slight angle leans more towards axe than sledgehammer.

About twelve centimeters away from the impact point is a brownish smudge on the floor that I recognize as the scuff marks shoes leave on tile and hardwood. From the circular shape of it, Kanata dumped out his bag, picked up the weapon, then turned hard on his heel, and walked out of the classroom. I stand and follow the other scuff marks. What I know for sure is that Kanata definitely went to see Sakuma. He left armed. The fact that he would kill someone comes to mind.

I can feel deep in the pit of my stomach that I’m not going to like what I find. I emotionally prepare myself for the worst case scenario. I stop at the top of the staircase leading to the floor below this one. A memory bubbled up. Something Kanata said that I had forgotten. ‘ _Chiaki. Right and wrong do not mean anything to me, you know?_ _Humans sin, but gods can do no wrong. I can do no wrong.’_ Some things click into place and start to make sense. I take another deep breath. I have to stop Kanata from whatever it is that he decides to do when Sakuma tells him the explicit details of this ‘Idol Survival Game’. If I’m not already too late, that is.

I shake off my hesitation and force myself to keep going forward. Before I can gather our boys together I have to get Kanata. There’s no point if Kanata isn’t there. I feel the need to fidget and pull the LSA out of its holster and start to toss it up and down. The flick-catch-flick-catch is familiar from all my stunt work and soothes the underlying anxiety. Makes it easier to think clearly. I have to go about the next three days sensibly, seriously, calmly. Dangerously.

The closer I get to the 2-B classroom the more iron starts to hang in the air. It coats my tongue so thickly it’s like I just got a tooth pulled or bit my tongue hard enough to bleed. This entire hallway is quiet. Too quiet. It’s the same sort of eerie quiet you see in movies and TV shows right before something horrible happens. Bile rises in my throat when I finally get to the 2-B classroom.

There’s so much blood in the air… it’s in the air, splattered all over the walls, pooling on the floor, caked all over Kanata’s clothes and face. I make a point to keep myself from looking down at his feet. I know what’s there.

“Kanata.” I holster the LSA and make my way over to him. His eyes are empty, unfeeling, like he’s emotionally detached himself from the situation. I shrug off my blazer and use it to wipe off his face. I keep my voice gentle. Something tells me that if I’m not careful I’ll break him. “You made a bit of a mess of yourself.”

“Chiaki, I… I…” I drop my blazer and pull him close to me. I’m not sure how, but I _know_ the why. It was for our boys. For me.

“Kanata, you don’t need to explain. You did it for our boys. Did it for me. Right?” I get a mumbled _yes_ in return. “Come now, let’s get our boys and find somewhere to keep them safe.”

I let my arms fall and grab onto his hand. The empty look has faded and I give him my biggest, brightest smile before I lead him out and towards the stairs. He holds onto my hand tightly, almost like a little kid clutching their mom’s hand as firmly as they can to keep from getting lost. It’s when we get to the stairs that Kanata finally speaks.

“Chiaki.” His voice is small and somber. I squeeze his hand. “We need to talk about important things. Like we promised.”

“Kanata.” I use my free hand to make him look at me. Ethereal green eyes to reddish brown ones. “Your past doesn’t matter to me, okay? What I care about is your right now and your future.”

Finally, after all the horrible things he has to have heard, after the horrible things he had to _do_ for me and our boys, tears start pouring out. “Chiaki…”

“You don’t _have_ to tell me anything about your home that you don’t want to, or can’t bear to say out loud.” I pause. Kiss him gently, sweetly, try to encapsulate the sincerity of my words in one small kiss. “As long as you’re by my side, as long as I’m part of your right now, as long as I’m part of your future, I’ll be more than happy to know nothing about your past.”

“Chiaki,” A soft sob, a smile through tears. “I love you. You will always be part of my right now and my future.”

I kiss him again, slower this time. Slower, more passionately, savoring every moment, because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than next to Kanata.

“I love you, Kanata.” I wipe the tears off his cheeks, brush the hair away from his eyes, squeeze his hand again. “C’mon, let’s go find our boys.”

“Okay.” He keeps that tight hold on my hand, keeps that small smile through tears, keeps that fond look in his eyes that he always has whenever we’re together.

**Hours remaining: 67.**

We can’t find our boys, well, not yet. On the other hand, we managed to be _found_. By none other than Mikejima-san. Mikejima-san, who is currently staring down Kanata. My right hand hovers over the grip of the LSA and I can see Kanata clutching onto the axe he has so hard his knuckles are white. Mikejima-san addresses me first.

“Chiaki-san. You lied. You _knew_ Kanata-san would kill someone, didn’t you?” I worry at my lower lip. Of course he saw right through me. “And… and… and, now, Rei-san… Kanata-san, he was your friend!”

Footsteps behind us draw my attention. I spin around on my heel, put my back against Kanata’s.

“Kiryuu.”

“Morisawa.” His voice is hard. Kanata and Mikejima-san exchange an acidic: _yakuza. Othuum._ “I’m sure you read the note that was left for everyone.”

“Yes, I did.” I widen my stance, wrap my right hand around the grip of the LSA, take a deep breath. Slowly, in and out. “I don’t want to fight you, Kiryuu.”

“It’s what they sent us here to do, isn’t it? I don’t intend to lose to you.”

“Likewise.” Kanata murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear, _kick his ass. I know you can_. I bring my hands up, defensive posture, ball them into fists. Kiryuu throws the first punch. I can’t dodge it entirely, but I sidestep just enough for it to graze my jaw. Kiryuu is good—ridiculously so—but I know more about fistfights like this. I’ve had to spar against other stuntmen who have much, much more experience than Kiryuu does. I think back to everything they taught me.

Take advantage of the recoil, throw your full weight into the punch, let your elbow lock, pay attention to every movement no matter how small. Waste no time in moving from punch to a sharp, sweeping kick to the temple. Brace yourself for the inevitable connection of your jaw with knuckles. Use the momentum from your body going backwards, hold your weight against your forearm, shift it to your hand, another kick perfectly lined up with the ankles, back to the forearm, stand back up in one fluid motion while your opponent falls.

All of this happens within three minutes. Kiryuu gets back up and looks confused. Asks me, voiced loaded with acid, “You’re not who you make yourself out to be, Morisawa. Nothing about this scares you, does it?”

I laugh. Dark and morbid. “When you’ve tried to die and seen the worst of yourself up close, nothing can frighten you anymore.”

“Just who, exactly, are you, Morisawa?” Pull the LSA out of its holster. Smile.

“Someone you really don’t want to fuck with.”

Lean back to dodge an uppercut, come back with a sharp slash from shoulder to hip, toss the LSA to my left hand, curl the right into a fist, focus all my strength into one last hit. Give out a harsh, debilitating undercut just under the rib-cage, right on the stomach. Kiryuu flies back a few meters. Holster the LSA, spit out blood and part of my back right wisdom tooth, wipe the side of my mouth.

“Do not,” I enunciate each word clearly, voice dripping malice. “fuck with Ryuseitai.”

I turn to face Kanata. My darling, hot, _dangerous_ Kanata. Adrenaline burns through my veins and that hungry look he has muddles my thoughts. I reach out, grab the collar of his shirt, pull him close to me. I kiss him, hard and messily, and he wraps his legs around my waist. Everywhere he touches feels like it’s been electrified. Stumble backwards into a door, fumble around behind me to turn the handle, kick it closed behind us. Have my shirt pulled up and off, kiss his neck, mumble his name over and over, revel in the soft _Chiaki, please_ Kanata gives me when I move up to that sensitive spot just below his ear. Drop down to my knees, push him back into the floor, give in to want and desire.

**Hours remaining: 64.**

Pants undone and shirt still off, I’m sitting up against the wall below a window with Kanata curled up in my lap. This part of the school has gotten quiet, and the warmth of Kanata’s soft, soft, soft skin up against mine is nice.

“We should get going and find our boys.” While I say that, I don’t make any movements towards getting up. Kanata wraps his arms tightly around my waist.

“Nn, I want to stay here just a little longer.”

I put my thoughts together. “Hey, Kanata?”

“Mmm?”

“After this is all over, after we graduate, let’s runaway together. Just the two of us.”

“I would love to.”

“Let’s go somewhere far, far away.” I run my fingertips up and down his spine. “We’ll leave this region entirely, go someplace by the sea, go someplace warm where we can go down to the beach all year long without worrying about getting sick, go someplace where no one knows us, go someplace where no one knows your family.”

“Chiaki, tell me, what would our house be like?” I glance down and catch a glimpse of a smile so pretty it makes my heart skip a beat.

“We’ll have a great big house, right on the water, our backyard’ll be the beach, and we’ll have space for as many fish tanks as you want. We’ll have a nice open kitchen with a breakfast bar, so I can kiss you while making breakfast, and it’ll have huge windows that look out onto the sea.” I pause and mumble those two words to myself. _Our house_. “Our house will be perfect for you and me.”

“It sounds absolutely lovely. Chiaki, I will go anywhere in the world that you do. I want to be together, always, no matter what.”

We sit in silence for a little while, which is really quite nice. I mean, we don’t really get time to do this sort of thing so much now that it’s the five of us and not just the two of us anymore. I bury my face in the top of his head and smile to myself. _Our house._ I can picture it so clearly and actually, kind of, want it really badly.

“Chiaki?”

“Mm, what is it, Kanata?”

“You really are a ‘hero’, you know.”

“How do you mean?” I’m a little confused, but a nice warm feeling bubbles up into my chest.

“Is it not a hero-like thing to go and rescue the person you love from a bad situation?”

Somehow, without needing to see it, I can tell that he’s smiling. That same pretty smile that never fails to make my heart skip a beat. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“We will get out of here, with our boys, and then, after graduation, I expect you to come steal me away and save me, Hero.”

My smile grows wider. “Of course, I’ll go to the bottom of the sea or the edge of space to rescue you. No matter what, I’ll always come rushing to you.”

“And I will come meet you when you go and rush to me.”

Kanata pulls away until I can see his face. He’s smiling and it’s the most lovely thing I’ve ever seen. He leans in close and kisses me. Soft, sweet, fondly, happily. I’m more than happy to stay here together for another just a little longer, but then we hear Nagumo’s voice.

“Midori-kun! Shinobu-kun! Where are you!?” Nagumo bursts in the room and says, “Taichou! Shinkai-senpai! Have you… wait, why are you…? Oh my god, did you two really just…? Eugh, gross! You two are so gross sometimes, I swear! Come on, get dressed already! We have to find Midori-kun and Shinobu-kun!”

With that, Kanata and I’s peaceful little moment is over. I don’t know when we’ll get to have another one.

**Hours remaining: 61.**

After getting dressed—minus our blazers, which we forgot about—and slinging the bag back over my shoulders, we immediately went on the hunt for Takamine and Sengoku. So far, we’ve checked the first, second, third, and fourth floor of the main building and are now in the lab room block. We’ve decided on splitting up to make the search faster. With that, I’m giving Nagumo the boot knife.

“Nagumo, take this.” I crouch down, pull my pants leg up to my knee, and take the boot knife off my calf. Hand it over to him. “It’s a back up boot knife, but you should strap it to your thigh like I did with the Land/Sea/Air knife I have.”

“Why’re you giving this to me?”

“Something in my gut tells me that all the first years were fucked over in what they were given in the bags on their desks.”

Nagumo frowns. “What do you mean ‘bags on their desks’? There wasn’t anything like that at all.”

Kanata and I exchange a glance with one another. His face is radiating anger, mine horrified. How could whoever set this up not give the first years something to protect themselves with? What was their intention? Did they really want all the first years to wind up dead? I set my mouth in a hard line. We _have_ to find Takamine and Sengoku. They aren’t like Nagumo: who can protect himself without needing anything but his fists. I hand the boot knife over.

“Take it and, should something happen to Kanata or I, protect Takamine and Sengoku with it.”

Nagumo nods in response and does as I told him to. We split up and I head to the fourth floor while Nagumo stays on the first, Kanata the second. I sprint up the stairs. I’m not going to let Takamine and Sengoku die, I _can’t_ let them die, not when they’re still so young and have so much time ahead of them. Once I get to the top of the stairs, a bad feeling settles into the pit of my stomach. I stop and listen carefully. Unfamiliar footsteps halfway down the hall, a faint sob, a quiet _Tetora-kun, where are you?_ I ignore the instinct to sprint and walk on the balls on my feet instead. Keeping silent is the best thing to do right now. Stay close to the wall, but not close enough to let the bag scrape against it.

Steady my breathing, grit my teeth as the sobbing gets louder the closer I get to my boys and whoever is hurting them. I stop and give a cautious glance into the classroom. Whoever it is made the mistake of not closing the door behind them. I frown. Takamine and Sengoku are backed up against the wall and… Hibiki? Hibiki is walking towards them with a butterfly knife in hand. Take in a deep breath, crouch down to get on Takamine and Sengoku’s eye level and avoid casting a reflection in the windows. Lean into the doorway with one finger pressed against my mouth to keep them quiet. Takamine’s lower lip starts to quiver and he bursts into loud, over-exaggerated sobs. I smile to myself and think, _clever boy._

I make use of Takamine’s fake crying to mask the sound of my footsteps. Stand up right about fifteen centimeters away from Hibiki’s back. Tap on his shoulder, wait for him to turn around, punch him so hard I can _feel_ his jaw dislocate against my knuckles.

“Takamine! Sengoku! Hurry up and go!” I don’t look away from Hibiki. “Nagumo’s on the first floor! Find him and get into a classroom! Lock the door behind you! Get moving, _now!_ ”

My voice is hard and the two immediately do as I say. I move over to protect Takamine from a stab to the side and have the butterfly knife slip in between my collarbone and the muscle connecting my shoulder to my neck. I hiss and kick his abdomen. Hibiki lets go of the knife as he stumbles backwards and I use those few seconds of his being incapacitated to rip the knife out then toss it to the floor. There’s maybe thirty seconds between when he gets back up then gives a hard swipe that runs vertically across my cheekbone and just barely misses connecting with my nose.

Bring both fists up into a defensive position, grit my teeth from the burn of muscle ripping, dodge another slash aimed for my shoulder, wait for an opening to give the same debilitating undercut that I gave Kiryuu. The biggest difference between Kiryuu and Hibiki is that the latter is faster. I finally get my opening and give out the strongest punch I can directly to the liver. Then after making sure he’s passed out: run.

I trip on the stairs and tumble down. I hit the wall across from the base of the staircase on the first floor with so much force that it knocks the wind out of me and I struggle to get a proper breath in. Everything _hurts_ and I let out a loud groan. The affected muscle is definitely torn and it feels like the entire area is on fire. Blood from the cut on my cheek drips down to the floor with a soft _plit… plit… plit!_ and the shoulder of my shirt is growing wet and sticky. I take in a deep shuddering breath. Those cuts need to be dealt with soon.

A door down the hall bangs open and I can hear four separate footsteps that I know very, very well come running towards me.

“Taichou!” Nagumo. “Are you okay? What happened? Shit, you’re bleeding!”

“Morisawa-senpai…” Takamine. “Your shirt is stained red… you’re not going to die, are you?”

“Taichou-dono…” Sengoku. “Please, don’t die!”

“Chiaki…” My darling Kanata. “Who did this to you?”

I force myself to sit up. “I’m fine, just a little banged up, and a couple of cuts won’t kill me. Hibiki was faster than I expected. I’ll live.”

I fake a smile. The boys all sigh in relief, while Kanata pouts at me. I know that look. _You are lying to me_. When the boys look away, I face Kanata and give him a look that he knows means, _I’m not okay._ Kanata moves over, rips off my left shirt sleeve, then ties it under and up around my shoulder. I hiss from the sharp pain. He pulls off my tie and presses it up against my cheek.

“Chiaki,” He keeps his voice quiet and his face is full of concern. “Tell me the truth. Will you really be okay?”

I take in a slow, deep breath and let it out. “I think so. The muscle is torn slightly, but that’ll heal over time. My tumble down the stairs will leave some pretty nasty bruises that’s gonna make doing things a little uncomfortable for a while.”

“If it gets worse, please, tell me.”

“I will, I promise.”

**Hours remaining: 58.**

We’ve holed ourselves up in the cafeteria’s kitchen so our boys can eat. It’s not the most nutritious thing in the world, but all we could find was some noodles and powdered beef broth mix. I’m not particularly hungry. I said so, and, really, wanted our boys to be able to eat as much as possible, but Kanata insisted that I eat after losing so much blood. Every movement of my left arm burns in a way that clouds my thinking.

From the not so subtle glances Takamine is giving me, I can tell he feels guilty. I got hurt protecting him. I gulp down half a bottle of water and decide to try and quell his guilt some.

“Takamine.” I keep my voice soft.

“M-Morisawa-senpai?” His voice is thick, like he’s ready to burst into tears.

“Stop feeling so guilty that I got hurt.” I make a point of looking him in the eye. “Getting hurt’s inevitable while we’re here, okay? Besides, if it wasn’t for you pretending to cry, I wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on Hibiki in the first place and all three of us would have been hurt.”

Kanata adds, “Chiaki and I, we would rather the two of us get hurt than any of you. We are here to protect you.”

Takamine starts to cry. He runs over to us and Kanata and I pull him close into a hug. Neither of us try to stop him from crying. After everything that’s happened over the past fourteen hours he deserves to cry and let all of the stress out.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… _hic hic…_ Shinobu-kun and I, w-we should have s-stayed put… I’m so, so sorry… We ran a-away when we shouldn’t have… and now you’re hurt… I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

Kanata and I run one hand each up and down his back. Together we let him sob into our shoulders and give him a gentle, _it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re okay. Everything will be fine. You’re safe now. You’re all safe, you’re going to be alright, we’re here. We’re here. We’re here now, you’re safe. That’s right, let it all out. It’s okay to cry. We’re going to protect you._

We repeat that, over and over, even after the sobs have stopped. Nagumo and Sengoku come over after a while and lean up against our backs. Nagumo against mine, Sengoku against Kanata’s. The five of us sit there like that, our boys taking comfort in our words and presence, Kanata and I more than happy to repeat it all for as long as they need it. More than happy to give them the entire world if they asked for it. More than happy to play mom and dad for them. More than happy to pretend to be strong to give them hope.

**Hours remaining: 54.**

We wound up in a fight against Oogami, Otogari, and Fushimi. Kanata’s pitted against Otogari, I’m taking Fushimi, and Nagumo is in a fierce but uneven match with Oogami. Fushimi isn’t as fast as Hibiki, but he’s definitely strong. From what I can see in the corner of my vision, Nagumo is just narrowly avoiding swings to the side of his head from Oogami’s golf club and Kanata is on the verge of beating Otogari.

From what I’ve gathered so far, Fushimi is perceptive. I have to go about this carefully. I switch back and forth between using the LSA and my fists. After having a quick pistol-whip like hit to the temple from the end of the LSA grip and a hard kick to the chest Fushimi goes down. Nagumo incapacitated Oogami and then went into the classroom Sengoku and Takamine are hidden in. I turn around and watch Kanata throw the finishing blow that knocks out Otogari.

There’s something about how incredibly dangerous Kanata is that’s both alluring and wildly arousing. I pull him close to me by his collar again. Kiss him hard and want to push him down to the floor like I did before. I settle on the closest wall and touch him all over. Whisper horribly dirty things in his ear. Tell him in as much detail as possible everything I want to do to him. Revel in his soft _please_ and _I want you_.

“When we get home…” I keep my voice low so the boys can’t hear. “I have to have you.”

**Hours remaining: 49.**

With the adrenaline starting to fade, my shoulder _hurts_. I’ve torn muscles before, but it’s never hurt anything like this. An intense, vision altering, sharp burning. Kanata pushed the desks in the teachers’ office up against the doors so our boys can sleep. After being awake running and fighting for twenty-four hours straight they need rest. I know I should sleep, but… Sitting next to Kanata up against the wall and watching our three boys fast asleep and so defenseless I can’t.

They look so peaceful sleeping, like there’s not screaming echoing throughout the school around them. I lean my head up against Kanata’s shoulder and fiddle with the LSA. I think. I knew already what matters to me, but being here has made it crystal clear. Shinkai Kanata. Takamine Midori. Nagumo Tetora. Sengoku Shinobu. Their lives matter more than my own. So long as they get out of here alive, everything that I’ve done—and will do—will have been worth it. Fighting, blood loss, running around, getting hurt, hurting others… it’s all worth it as long as they get out of here alive.

“Kanata.”

“Chiaki? What is it?”

“If I don’t make it out of here, promise me, that you and our boys will keep going even without my being with you.”

“Only if you promise to do the same for me.”

We look each other in the eye and say at the same time, “It’s a promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took eight zillion years and wound up longer than expected, sorry


	5. Day One. Kanata: My Voice and Dreams All Withering.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not feeling anything at all, that won’t hurt me—will it?

**Hours remaining: 72.**

I do not like the looks of this. The canceling of all school activities was not particularly suspicious. A sudden field trip, however, was extremely suspicious. Even more suspicious was the sudden drowsiness from the water passed around to everyone when we were on the buses. My memories of the past twelve hours are hazy and incomplete.

Right now, I am skimming over the note left for us and ignoring my classmates. _Idol Survival Game. Three days. Survive by any means necessary. Kill one another. Small group remaining. Good luck. Stay alive._ I do not like any of this. I turn on my heel and walk back to my desk. Rei will know more. I dump the bag left for me out onto the floor. Water bottles, freeze dried rations, and an axe that cracks the floor tiles tumble out.

I grab the axe, give it a few experimental swings, then leave for 2-B. Rei will be there. I am in no hurry to reach him. I know that he will stay there, waiting, hoping to find his younger brother. I take the stairs one step at a time. Quietly. Carefully. Grip the handle of the ax so tightly my knuckles turn white.

“Rei.” He turns when I call out to him. The classroom is empty. Good.

“Ah, Shinkai-kun.”

“Do tell me, Rei, what is this ‘Idol Survival Game’ nonsense about?”

“It is, in essence, natural selection.” He pauses, like he is choosing his words carefully. “In years past, it was only third-years who were made to participate. However, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, this time every class is being required to.”

“Why is that?” My voice comes out sharp and cold.

“It is the Student Council that selects which classes participate. More specifically, the Student Council President. It is likely that there is an over-saturation of talent this round and, thusly, Tenshouin-kun elected that all classes be involved.”

“What about the first and second-years?”

Rei looks down at the floor. “Most of them will not survive. Your boys, and your beloved Chiaki-kun—”

I interrupt him. “They have names. They. Have. Names. Their names are Takamine Midori. Nagumo Tetora. And Sengoku Shinobu.”

“The middle one, Nagumo-kun, he will live to the third day. But. Takamine-kun and Sengoku-kun will not live past day two. As for your beloved Chiaki-kun… You know as well as I do that he could never kill someone. By the last few hours, I’m positive that you and Mikejima-kun will be the only of us left standing.”

“No.” My voice is quiet. A life without Chiaki in it… “No.” A life where I do not get to be by his side anymore… “No!” A life without my children smiling at me… Is a life I do not want to have.

“I’m sorry, Shinkai-kun, but there’s nothing that you can do.”

Something inside me breaks. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Let go of the axe. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Sink down to my knees. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Wind my fingers into my hair. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Emotions start to wither. Stare down at the floor, pull at my hair, see every time Chiaki has smiled at me flash before my eyes, think to myself _I do not want to be alone_ _ **again**_. Finally: a hole opens in my chest and eats all my feelings, leaving behind nothing but a deep-seated emptiness that burns in my core.

“No.” I wrap my fingers around the axe. Stand up. “They will live. They will live!”

With two steps forward, I bring the axe up, then swing. The bit end of the axe’s head lodges into his ribcage with a _crack!_ followed by the unmistakably familiar wet warmth of blood on my face. I put my left foot on his abdomen and rip the axe out of his chest. Thick, dark, crimson blood cascades to the floor with a loud splatter that cakes the floor and stains my slacks.

Rei falls with a dull _thud_ and I mutter _they will live, they will live_. I swing down into his upper body indiscriminately over and over and over. Iron is so thick in the air I can taste it. Shirt and slacks stick to the skin of my shins and abdomen.

Very, very weakly Rei says to me, “Shinkai-kun… why?”

I laugh. Dark and sardonic. “Did you really think that there is any sort of empathy or mercy in me? I may have become human-like, but I am still a god and your morality means nothing to me.” I give him a large smile. “Goodbye, vampire.”

Bring the axe down into the throat and sever straight through the spinal cord.

**Hours remaining: 70.**

I look down at Rei’s body and wonder. _What will Chiaki think of me when he sees this?_ I decide that now is the time to tell him. Even if I am not entirely ready… he has to know. He has to know everything just in case he… he… I can’t bring myself to finish that thought. Chiaki leaving… being unable to come back… it makes my chest ache in an unbearable way.

I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want him to leave for any reason whatsoever. I bring my hands up in front of my face and stare at them. The palms are pale, delicate, covered in soft indented lines that Nacchan could tell me the meanings of. Meanwhile, what should be equally delicate and pale wrists are stained in dark red splatters of blood. I rub my face and bring my hands back down. Now, my palms are smeared with uneven streaks of dark crimson.

How am I going to explain this? How can I justify to a hero what I have done? What do I say? What will _Chiaki_ say? What do I say to someone who holds right and wrong above all else? Fear sets in and I viciously rub my arms and hands up against my slacks until the skin is rubbed raw and stings.

_Never forget, Kanata. Humans sin, but gods can do no wrong. You will never do wrong._

_Never forget, Kanata. Everything you will ever do can not be judged by humans._

_‘Kanata. Tell me, what are you?’ I’m a living god! ‘What does this mean for you?’_ _I can never do any wrong. ‘Why is that?’ Because humans have to choose between good and evil, but gods are inherently just and righteous. ‘_ _Kanata, where do you come from?’ The ocean!_ _The ocean_ _gave me to the world. ‘That’s right. Never forget that. Never forget that you came from the sea.’_

Words instilled in me by my household ring in my ears. I can do no wrong… I can never do wrong… I mutter that to myself over and over. This is… this is fine. Everything is fine. I can do no wrong… I can do no wrong… Can I really do no wrong? How ‘human-like’ do I have to be before I become human completely? Am I _really_ still a living god? How can I be sure? What… what can I do to be _sure_? What can I do to get rid of this doubt and fear? What would my household say to me?

“Kanata.” Tears threaten to start pouring out. Gently, carefully Chiaki rubs the blood off my face with his blazer. “You made a bit of a mess of yourself.”

“Chiaki, I… I…” My voice is small and I struggle to find a way to explain what happened. Chiaki drops his blazer then pulls me close. I want to push him away, tell him to leave, tell him that I am too dangerous, tell him that he isn’t safe with me but the words refuse to come out.

“Kanata, you don’t need to explain. You did it for our boys. Did it for me. Right?” I bury my face in his shoulder and mumble _yes_. What I want to say is: _how can you still be so sweet after knowing what I did?_ “Come now, let’s get our boys and find somewhere to keep them safe.”

He lets go and holds my hand. I look up from his shoulder and he’s giving me the biggest, brightest, sweetest smile. I bite the inside of my cheek, hold onto his hand tightly, swallow back the desire to push him away from me. The desire to let go and run away. And yet… at the same time… I want him to hold me close and tell me that everything is fine. Tell me that I can do no wrong, just as my household has said.

Shrill screams echo around the campus. Shrill screams full of pain, fear, grief… full of the emotions that have atrophied within me. Not feeling anything at all, that won’t hurt me—will it? Or will it hurt Chiaki? Chiaki who feels so strongly about everything. Chiaki who needs to know. I take a deep breath and stop at the staircase.

“Chiaki.” I steel my nerves and stare at the floor. He squeezes my hand. “We need to talk about important things. Like we promised.”

“Kanata.” He forces me to look at him with his free hand. “Your past doesn’t matter to me, okay? What I care about is your right now and your future.”

My lower lip trembles, my eyes burn, and finally the tears come out in quiet, hiccuping sobs. “Chiaki…”

“You don’t _have_ to tell me anything about your home that you don’t want to, or can’t bear to say out loud.” He pauses, leans up on the balls of his feet, kisses me. Gently, sweetly, getting across the sincerity of his words. “As long as you’re by my side, as long as I’m part of your right now, as long as I’m part of your future, I’ll be more than happy to know nothing about your past.”

“Chiaki,” I give in to another sob, force myself to smile through my tears. “I love you. You will always be part of my right now and my future.”

He kisses me again. Slower, more passionately, and I can not help but savor every moment of it. Even while feeling nothing, while consumed by emptiness, while confused as to who I am, there is nowhere else I would rather be than with Chiaki.

“I love you, Kanata.” He rubs the tears off my cheeks with the side of his palm, carefully brushes the hair away from my eyes, squeezes my hand tightly. “C’mon, let’s go find our boys.”

“Okay.” I swallow down more sobs, give him a genuine smile, decide here and now that no matter what happens or what I do, I am going to stay beside him.

**Hours remaining: 67.**

While we were searching the second floor for our boys that rogue stopped us. I clutch onto the axe so tightly my knuckles turn white. Chiaki’s hand is hovering over the grip of the knife he has strapped to his right thigh. Mama is looking me in the eye with a displeased look on his face. He does not look away from me when he addresses Chiaki first.

“Chiaki-san. You lied. You _knew_ Kanata-san would kill someone, didn’t you?” I glance at Chiaki, who is biting his lower lip and looks like he got caught doing something he should not have. “And… and… and, now, Rei-san… Kanata-san, he was your friend!”

Footsteps behind us force Chiaki to spin around and put his back against mine. I can hear a surprised _Kiryu_ then a hard _Morisawa_.

I toss the axe to the side and say to Mama, voice loaded with acid, “Yakuza.”

He glares and returns with, “Othuum.”

Behind me I hear _I don’t intend to lose to you_ followed by _likewise_. I lean into Chiaki’s back and murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, “Kick his ass. I know you can.”

Step forward, bring my hands up, ball them into fists. I do not need to observe Mama’s stance to know he is going to use taiho-jutsu. Take a deep breath, sidestep his first punch, retaliate with a hard uppercut just below the rib-cage. Duck to avoid a kick aimed for my temple. Hit him so hard my knuckles pop and his jaw dislocates with a loud _crack_. Raise my eyebrows as he sticks his thumb in his mouth, grips his jawbone, and forces it back into place.

Stumble backwards when his fist connects with my cheekbone and unbalances my stance. Come back and knee him in the stomach so hard he collapses with a sharp _hurk!_ Grab the axe and hit his temple with the butt of the handle just hard enough to incapacitate him. Adrenaline races through me and I feel so… so… so incredibly, inexplicably, overwhelmingly _alive_.

I turn, stare at Chiaki standing over the red ogre, and think, _I want you. You are the one thing I want all to myself. You are the one thing I want to be totally and completely selfish with._

“Do not fuck with Ryuseitai.”

The unadulterated malice in his voice, the overheard ‘ _someone you really do_ _n’_ _t want to fuck with_ ’, how easily he took down the red ogre makes me realize: he is just as dangerous as I am. There is something about that fact that is, quite frankly, arousing. It can’t hurt to be selfish with just one thing—can it? I wonder, what would my household say?

Chiaki grabs my collar, pulls me close to him, kisses me hard and messily, and with that sharp jolt of electricity running down my spine I find that I don’t give a fuck about what my household would say. I want him, I want this, I am going to be totally and completely selfish with just this one thing. If I can’t be selfish with anything else, I am going to be selfish with just this. Fuck what my household would say. I want Chiaki and I am going to have him all to myself.

I give a small jump, wrap my legs around his waist, push the bag off his shoulders, pull apart the knot of his tie while he stumbles backwards into a door and fumbles with the handle. Tug his shirt up and off, get open-mouthed kisses up along my neck that make me hot all over, let myself be pushed down against the cold tiled floor that does nothing to how horribly hot I feel.

Realize, here and now, how desperately I’ve wanted to be selfish with something. I swallow hard, mumble _I want you all to myself_ , receive a breathy _you can have me_ up against my ear in return. Kiss him and give in to selfish desires.

**Hours remaining: 64.**

Sitting curled up in Chiaki’s lap, head against his chest, and listening to his heartbeat slow soothes the doubt I had earlier.

“We should get going and find our boys.” Despite saying that, Chiaki does not make any movements towards getting up.

I wrap my arms around his waist tightly and reply, “Nn, I want to stay here just a little longer.”

After a short pause Chiaki says, “Hey, Kanata?”

“Mmm?"

“After this is all over, after we graduate, let’s runaway together. Just the two of us.”

I smile. “I would love to.”

“Let’s go somewhere far, far away.” His voice is quiet, and he runs his fingertips along my spine gently. “We’ll leave this region entirely, go someplace by the sea, go someplace warm where we can go down to the beach all year long without worrying about getting sick, go someplace where no one knows us, go someplace where no one knows your family.”

My smile grows. “Chiaki, tell me, what would our house be like?”

“We’ll have a great big house, right on the water, our backyard’ll be the beach, and we’ll have space for as many fish tanks as you want. We’ll have a nice open kitchen with a breakfast bar, so I can kiss you while making breakfast, and it’ll have huge windows that look out onto the sea.” Chiaki pauses and mumbles _our house_ to himself. “Our house will be perfect for you and me.”

“It sounds absolutely lovely.” I can picture it so clearly, want it so badly. “Chiaki, I will go anywhere in the world that you do. I want to be together, always, no matter what.”

We sit in silence. I wonder, how long has it been since we got to sit like this? How long has it been since we got to linger together in a comfortable silence? Not needing to say anything, or force conversation, just sit and enjoy being pressed up close to one another. Chiaki buries his face against the top of my head and I let out a little contented sigh. I can’t help but think about that. _Our house_.

“Chiaki?”

“Mm, what is it, Kanata?”

“You really are a ‘hero’, you know.”

“How do you mean?”

“Is it not a hero-like thing to go and rescue the person you love from a bad situation?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“We will get out of here, with our boys, and then, after graduation, I expect you to come steal me away and save me, Hero.”

I can feel Chiaki smiling into my hair. “Of course, I’ll go to the bottom of the sea or the edge of space to rescue you. No matter what, I’ll always come rushing to you.”

“And I will come meet you when you go and rush to me.”

I pull away just enough so that Chiaki can see me smiling. The dippy look on his face says, _that’s the most lovely thing I’ve ever seen_. I lean forward, closing the gap between us, and kiss him. Soft and sweet and fond and _happy_. I could stay here for another ‘just a little longer’, but there’s footsteps down the hall and Tetora’s voice.

“Midori-kun! Shinobu-kun! Where are you!?” Tetora slams the door open with a loud _bang!_ and addresses the two of us. “Taichou! Shinkai-senpai! Have you… wait, why are you…? Oh my god, did you two really just…? Eugh, gross! You two are so gross sometimes, I swear! Come on, get dressed already! We have to find Midori-kun and Shinobu-kun!”

It is with more than a little reluctance that Chiaki and I finally get up and end our little peaceful moment.

**Hours remaining: 61.**

In our search for Midori and Shinobu we stumbled across a dead body in the 2-A classroom. Specifically, Chiaki’s fellow club member Subaru’s body. Tetora saw it and immediately bent over and threw up. After Tetora finished dry heaving, Chiaki muttered _come on, let’s go_ and led us to the lab room block. The three of us agreed to split up and each take a floor to make our search faster.

“Nagumo, take this.” Chiaki crouches, pulls his pants leg up to the knee, and removes the knife from its place strapped to his calf. “It’s a back up boot knife, but you should strap it to your thigh like I did with the Land/Sea/Air knife I have.”

Tetora looks confused. “Why’re you giving this to me?”

Chiaki makes a small explanatory gesture with his left hand. “Something in my gut tells me that all the first years were fucked over in what they were given in the bags on their desks.”

His face pulls out of confusion to a frown. “What do you mean ‘bags on their desks’? There wasn’t anything like that at all.”

My mouth falls into a hard line. Chiaki and I give each other a glance. Chiaki’s face is full of horror and mine radiates anger. Before the three days are up I am going to go see Koutei-san. How dare he. How _dare_ he leave the first-years, his own juniors, nothing to protect themselves with. Unadulterated hatred bursts through everything that has atrophied and burns so sharply in my chest it hurts. Chiaki hands Tetora the knife and I try to steady my breathing. I want to turn around now, find Koutei-san, rip him apart with my bare hands. But, I can’t. I refuse to leave Chiaki.

“Take it and, should something happen to Kanata or I, protect Takamine and Sengoku with it.”

Tetora nods and does as he was told, then the three of us split up. I start on the second floor. Going through each classroom carefully, clutching at my shirt from how horribly my chest hurts from hatred. I take in a deep shuddering breath. Stumble. Sink to my knees. _You and Mikejima-kun will be the only of us left standing_. Rei’s words ring in my ears.

What if he was right? What if by the zero hour Mama and I are the only ones still alive? What if… What if Chiaki… What if Chiaki _dies_? I shake my head. No. No. No, no, no, Chiaki will live. Even if our boys do not, Chiaki _will_ live. I am going to make sure of that. I push my hand against the cool, dust-caked laminate flooring and try to ground myself. I have to stay present if I am going to keep Chiaki and our boys here. I can’t let myself get worked up over something trivial.

I mumble the words instilled in me by my household over and over. _I can do no wrong, I can do no wrong, I can never do any wrong_. I force myself to stand. I have to keep going. We are only twelve hours into the game, I still have two entire days to get Chiaki and our boys through. My steps are small and shaky. I lean heavily against the door frame and hope the cold metal will help me wake up. Have emotions always been this exhausting?

A string of shouted words pulls me back to reality. I know that voice. That is… _Chiaki_. Panic shoots through my veins and I run to the staircase. Midori and Shinobu slam into me and knock me backwards into the tile. My head connects with the floor and I let out a loud hiss followed by an irritated, _fuck!_

Midori’s words come out fast and almost incoherent. “Sh-Shinkai-senpai! M-Mori-Morisawa-senpai said…”

I sit up and shout, “Chiaki! How is he!? Is he okay!?”

Midori bites his lower lip. “I don’t know… he just said to go back to the first floor and get into a classroom with Tetora-kun.”

Five minutes. I will give him five minutes then go after him. I stand, ignoring the throbbing pain in the back of my head, grab the handle of the axe, and say to Shinobu and Midori, “Come on! Let’s go!”

I follow the two down the stairs and count down the minutes. Five. Tetora hugs Midori and Shinobu. Four. He asks if they are alright. Three. Slam the door of the nearest classroom shut and lock it with a quiet _click_. Two. Pace back and forth in front of the door watching the clock on the wall. One. A set of thumps coming down the stairs followed by a dull _thud_ and a loud groan. Zero. Open the door, race down the hall, sit down on my knees in front of Chiaki.

Chiaki, who’s shirt is stained red. Chiaki, who has a large cut lengthwise across his cheekbone dripping blood down along the bridge of his nose and to the floor. The stain continues to grow, permeating the air around us with the sharp smell of iron. The four of us speak in turns.

“Taichou!” Tetora. “Are you okay? What happened? Shit, you’re bleeding!”

“Morisawa-senpai…” Midori. “Your shirt is stained red… you’re not going to die, are you?”

“Taichou-dono…” Shinobu. “Please, don’t die!”

“Chiaki…” Me. “Who did this to you?”

Chiaki grimaces from the effort of forcing himself to sit up. “I’m fine, just a little banged up, and a couple of cuts won’t kill me. Hibiki was faster than I expected. I’ll live.”

He forces a smile that makes our boys sigh in relief, and me pout. He is lying to me. When our boys look away, Chiaki faces me and makes a look that I know very well. _I’m not okay_. Move over, grip the sticky, damp sleeve of his shirt and rip it off, wrap it under and over his shoulder tightly to act as the closest thing to a tourniquet that I have. Get a sharp inhale when I press his tie against the cut on his face. His face, collarbones, and arm is covered in bright pink and red splotches that are quickly turning dark purple as the capillaries underneath the skin leak and turn into bruises.

“Chiaki…” I keep my voice quiet so the boys can’t hear us. “Tell me the truth. Will you really be okay?”

A deep breath, slow exhale. “I think so. The muscle is torn slightly, but that’ll heal over time. My tumble down the stairs will leave some pretty nasty bruises that’s gonna make doing things a little uncomfortable for a while.”

I force him to look at me. “If it gets worse, please, tell me.”

“I will, I promise.”

**Hours remaining: 58.**

Chiaki and I took our boys to the cafeteria so that they can eat. Chiaki insisted that he was fine, wasn’t hungry, but I forced him to eat. He would collapse from blood loss induced hyponatremia and hypoglycemia if he did not put at least something into his stomach to increase his sodium and sugar levels. Midori keeps glancing over at Chiaki’s shoulder in a way that is supposed to be inconspicuous, but is very clearly guilt-ridden. From the bits and pieces I have gathered, Chiaki got hurt protecting him.

“Takamine.” Chiaki’s voice is soft.

“M-Morisawa-senpai?” Conversely, Midori’s voice is thick and wavering. He is on the verge of bursting into tears.

“Stop feeling so guilty that I got hurt.” He looks Midori in the eye. “Getting hurt’s inevitable while we’re here, okay? Besides, if it wasn’t for you pretending to cry, I wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on Hibiki in the first place and all three of us would have been hurt.”

I keep my own voice gentle and add, “Chiaki and I, we would rather the two of us get hurt than any of you. We are here to protect you.”

Midori finally gives in to his tears and runs over to us, sinking down to his knees, and sobbing. For once, he does not protest when Chiaki and I pull him close into a hug.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… _hic hic…_ Shinobu-kun and I, w-we should have s-stayed put… I’m so, so sorry… We ran a-away when we shouldn’t have… and now you’re hurt… I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

Together, Chiaki and I run one hand each up and down Midori’s back. Let him cry into our shoulders. Murmur, _it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re okay. Everything will be fine. You’re safe now. You’re all safe, you’re going to be alright, we’re here. We’re here. We’re here now, you’re safe. That’s right, let it all out. It’s okay to cry. We’re going to protect you._ Over and over and over. Long after the tears have stopped, after Shinobu and Tetora have come over and leaned up against our backs, after they have begun to grip onto our hands tightly like children who do not want to be separated from their parents.

We repeat that comforting set of lies over and over and over. Both of us more than happy to pretend the words are true, more than happy to pretend to be strong, more than happy to pretend neither of us can break down, more than happy to play house for them, more than happy to give them the entire world if they asked for it. More than happy to get hurt or give up our lives to keep them safe.

**Hours remaining: 54.**

We wound up fighting. Again. This time against Kaoru’s unit members Koga and Adonis, and their classmate Yuzuru. Yuzuru fights with something that I recognize as being close to what yakuza use, while Adonis uses what is very obviously the krav maga that originates in the Middle East. The best counter would have to be… tae kwon do. Take in a deep breath, think back to everything Mama said so long ago.

 _Kanata-san, keep your stance narrow and tall. Don’t worry about power in and of itself, focus on the speed and agility of your movements. Keep a leg’s distance between you and your opponent. When you go to_ _use a turning kick, remember to rotate your hip as well as your leg the additional mass gives more power to the kick as a whole. And, you want your muscles to relax in between strikes, it saves energy._

Sidestep a punch, use his recoil to give a sharp hit directly to the pressure point in the jugular vein, receive a second punch perfectly centered to dislocate my jaw. Step back, stick one thumb in my mouth against the wisdom teeth, grip the underside of my jawbone, press down on the teeth, push the chin up until my jaw relocates with a loud _crack!_ Take advantage of his surprise and use the butt end of the axe to hit his temple.

I move my jaw back and forth to make sure it properly lined up with a set of quiet _pop pop pop_ s on both sides. I can handle two more days of this, right? Right.

**Hours remaining: 49.**

Chiaki desperately needs stitches. He collapsed while trying to help me push desks against the doors of the teacher’s office to keep our boys safe while they sleep. The tourniquet I made slowed the bleeding, but without stitches the wound is not going to clot and close. It is too deep, too wide, bleeding and making Chiaki’s complexion pale with the slow onset of hypovolemic shock.

I repeat that to myself over and over. I can handle two more days of this. I can handle two more days. Deep down, I know that is a lie. Looking at our exhausted boys, sleeping so peacefully. Having the weight of Chiaki leaning heavily against my side, his skin getting increasingly pale and clammy. I am starting crack. I can feel that soon, very, very soon, I will break down. I wonder, when I break, will I hurt someone? Or, will I hurt myself? The longer I sit here, with my children vulnerable and Chiaki gradually going into hypovolemic shock, the more I can feel my voice and dreams all withering.

What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do when a future without Chiaki is inching towards being my reality? What _can_ I do? _On this ground, being unable to walk is the same as being unable to live._ I take a deep breath, grab onto Chiaki’s hand, understand. All I can do is keep walking forward, no matter what it is that I have to do to keep Chiaki alive. Hurting, fighting, killing people, falling to pieces and breaking, feeling nothing at all… as long as it’s for him, I will do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took ages, im sorry. right as i was finally free of writers block i got super sick. rip. after this its back to izumi's pov! mika makes his first appearance (finally)
> 
> notes:  
> krav maga: the official martial art developed for what became the israeli self defense force  
> taiho-jutsu: the martial art that the japanese police force uses


	6. Day Two. Izumi: Something I Can Never Do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now… Now it’s my turn to do something for him!”

******Hours remaining: 48.**

Red, red, red, red. My face. My hair. My clothes. My hands. My reflection, stained in blood, looks like something out of a horror movie. The only difference is the absent, almost solemn, expression accompanying the blood on my face. I wonder, is there ever going to be a day where I regret what I just did? Will I live long enough to regret it? Stuck here, it’s like my future is turning dormant and withering away.

I pull off my uniform blazer and use the inside to wipe all the blood off my face and hair. Leo-kun doesn’t need to see me looking like this. I toss the blazer to the floor, push any doubt-filled thoughts away, turn on my heel, pick up the bat. I can’t afford to have us sit here any longer. We need to get back to Kasa-kun and the others, need to make sure nothing’s happened to them since we’ve been away.

“Leo-kun,” I shake his shoulder gently. “Leo-kun, come on, wake up, we have to get going.”

“Nn… Sena?” He looks up at me blankly.

“Can you stand?” I hold one hand and pull him to his feet. “How are you feeling?”

“Still a little light-headed.”

“Here,” I get down on one knee. “I’ll carry you, get on.”

He does as told and I’m more than happy to get away from… _that_. I grit my teeth and get moving. I don’t want to leave Kasa-kun alone with Kuma-kun for much longer. Don’t want to get there and find Kasa-kun half-dead with Kuma-kun unhinged. I’m not going to lose anyone. I _refuse_ to lose anyone. No matter what the cost is, no one is going to die. Leo-kun is heavy and I have to keep readjusting him on my back. My muscles strain from the effort, but I force myself to keep going.

**Hours remaining: 46.**

I had to stop and rest for a few minutes after carrying Leo-kun so far. I’m exhausted and can feel that if I don’t sleep soon I will collapse. We need to get back to the infirmary. Several sets of footsteps make me stand in front of him protectively.

“Sena!”

“Morisawa?” Trailing behind Morisawa is Shinkai and their three first-years. I can’t help but notice the large blood stain on his shirt and long cut across his face. What happened to them, I wonder?

“Ah, Sena, thank goodness! You’re o… kay…” Morisawa’s face pales and he collapses with a dull _thud_. Five sets of voices say all at once: _Morisawa! Taichou! Morisawa-senpai! Taichou-dono! Chiaki!_ I run to him and sit on my knees. I reach out to touch the tourniquet on his shoulder and find it wet. He shudders and mumbles, “Kanata… Kanata… Kanata, it’s so cold. Why is it so cold?”

I put as much pressure as possible on the tourniquet, turn my head to yell at Shinkai. “How long has he been bleeding!?”

Shinkai winds his fingers in his hair. “I… I… It has to be… Has to be over ten hours.”

“You idiot!” I rip off my tie and wrap it around his shoulder as tightly as possible, strengthening the pressure on the preexisting tourniquet. “You fucking idiot! That cut should have been stitched or cauterized immediately after he got it! Shinkai, pick him up, _now_! We have to get to the infirmary!”

The shortest one steps forward and says quietly, “Uhm… why are you helping us? Why not just let him die? Isn’t that the purpose of the game?”

“Letting someone…” I pause. “No. Letting a _friend_ die is something I can never do.”

We stand in silence. None of us wanting to look any of the others in the eye. Then, Morisawa begins screaming.

“No! No! _No!_ Kanata! Kanata, please! Kanata, don’t go! Don’t go!” His screaming turns to sobbing. “Kanata, please… Don’t go… I’m begging you, _please_ , don’t go… Don’t leave me…”

Shinkai runs over and cradles Morisawa in his arms. “Chiaki, Chiaki, I’m here, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you.”

“Shinkai,” He turns to look at me and his eyes are glassed over with tears. “We need to hurry.”

He nods, and picks up the barely conscious Morisawa. I grab Leo-kun’s wrist, instruct Morisawa’s first-years to follow us, then run. Run as fast as I can before time runs out and I can’t save my friend. Run after my mouth is dry and my throat burns. Run, run, run. Run until I’m slamming the door to the infirmary open. Run until I’ve pulled out needles, an IV bag line, and pulled gloves onto both hands. Run into a giant problem.

“Who… Who’s going to be the blood donor?” My voice is quiet, full of disbelief. _How could I forget such an important thing?_ Leo-kun can’t do it again, not without getting incredibly sick.

The tallest first-year pulls off his blazer and sweater. “I will. I’ll do it.”

I look over at him and he’s rolling up his left shirt sleeve. “What’s your blood type?”

He falters. “I… I don’t know.”

“If your blood type isn’t the same as Morisawa’s or type O, then you can’t do it.”

“But… why?” He glances over at where Morisawa’s lying on a bed with Shinkai sitting next to him on the floor and crying.

“Because, if it doesn’t match or is type O, his body _will_ reject it and he’ll get even more sick.”

“I’m willing to take that chance.” His face is full of determination.

“What?” I’m confused. “Why would you want to risk that?”

He takes a deep breath. “Always… Morisawa-senpai always does everything for me. He’ll do everything I don’t want to do, even if I don’t ask him to. Now… Now it’s my turn to do something for him!”

I bite my lip, debate this with myself, come to the conclusion that we have no other choice. We have to take the chance and pray that it works. I take a deep breath, drag a chair over next to the bed, instruct him to sit in it.

“Hold out your arm and make a fist.” He does as he’s told, and I clamp the IV line before slipping the needle in. Move over, strap Morisawa’s right arm down, use my belt to force the vein to bulge, slip the needle in, pull off the clamp, rip off half of my shirt sleeve. “Squeeze this, hold for two seconds, then let it go. Do it over and over until I tell you to stop.”

He nods and I make quick work of tightening the other straps over Morisawa’s knees, left wrist, and chest. Run over, grab a surgical needle, a liter bottle of isopropyl alcohol, athletic bandage, thread, a lighter, burn cream, an ice pack, and a dozen sterile gauze pads. Tell Shinkai and the middle tallest one—Nagumo?—to push down on his right shoulder and left upper arm, respectively.

Shinkai does as asked, but says, “Why do we need to hold him down?”

I cut off the tourniquets. Put on new gloves. “You need to hold him down, because this is going to hurt.”

Take a deep breath. Begin. Drench the cut in isopropyl alcohol, wipe it clean with a gauze pad, thread the needle, pinch it shut, make each individual stitch as tight as possible, wipe away blood between stitches, close it with a knot, wipe the area clean, and carefully dab drops of isopropyl along the length of the wound. Don’t turn when I ask Leo-kun to hold a bottle of water, pull off the lid, and wait for my signal to dump it over the cut. I take in a second deep breath, pick up the lighter, pull the trigger, set it up against the cut, grimace when Morisawa starts to scream.

Count down. Five, four, three, two, one. Shout, “Leo-kun! Now! Dump the entire bottle out!”

Look up to see Shinkai in tears. Rip off my gloves. Put on clean ones. Wipe the area. Coat the charred skin in burn cream. Place a gauze pad up against it. Squeeze, shake, then push the ice pack up against the affected area. Wrap the bandage around his shoulder tightly. Stumble backwards and sit down on the bed behind me. Mumble, “Shinkai, Nagumo, you can let go of his shoulder and upper arm now. The ice pack and burn cream will numb the affected area.”

The shortest one asks, “What do we do now?”

“We keep up the blood transfusion, change the dressing and clean the wound every hour and a half, and just… wait. That’s all we can do. All we can really do is wait.” I rub my eyes with my hands. I’m so tired.

**Hours remaining: 42.**

“Nn… Kanata? Takamine?” Shinkai stands up from where he was sitting down on the floor immediately.

“Chiaki! Oh, thank god, you’re okay.” He bursts into tears.

“What… I… what happened? Why’re you crying?”

I answer. “You went into hypovelemic shock. You passed out.”

Shinkai wipes the tears off his face with the heel of his palm. “M… Midori and Sena saved you. They kept you from dying.”

I interrupt them, grab the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope. “Morisawa, what’s your normal blood pressure?”

He rubs his eyes with one hand. “Uhh, usually one hundred over sixty. Why?”

“I need to check your vitals to make sure you’re stable and can take out the IV saline.” Wrap the cuff over his left upper arm, place the stethoscope up against the brachial artery, spin the dial shut, pump up to two hundred, slowly let out the pressure, and listen closely. Watch the needle carefully. _Thump._ Ninety-five. _Thump, thump, thump, thump._ Fifty-five. _Silence_. Let out the rest of the air, put everything on the bed behind me.

“So? What is it, Sena?”

I sigh, again, and reply. “Ninety-five over fifty-five. A little lower than your usual, but in the normal for chronic low blood pressure. You’re free of the saline drip.” Clamp the IV line, wait for it to empty, slowly take out the needle, tape a cotton swab over the vein. “I’d give it about twenty-minutes before sitting up and eating. Whatever rations are in that backpack of yours should be fine.”

I start to make way over to take Kuma-kun’s Trickstar boy’s—Isara’s—vitals but Morisawa grabs onto my shirt sleeve. “Sena, wait.”

I’m too exhausted too pull out of his grasp. “What is it?”

He looks me in the eye. “Sena, thank you. You didn’t have to save me, but you did anyways. So… again, thank you.”

I make a dismissive gesture with my right hand. “I’m not just going to let a friend die.”

Shinkai, Morisawa, and their first-years start talking as I walk away. I repeat the blood pressure check on Isara, and get his heart rate and breathing as well. One twenty over seventy, seventy-eight beats per minute, nineteen breaths per minute. Let him know he’s good to go and can start moving around now. Sit down in Leo-kun’s lap, and finally let myself sleep.

**Hours remaining: 32.**

_Sena… Hey, Sena… Sena, wake up…_

I grumble sleepily, “Nn, Mama, please, five more minutes.” I rub the sleep out of my eyes and mumble, “Morisawa? What’re you doing up?”

“I’m feeling better now. Besides, there’s something I need to tell everyone.”

“Fine.” I stand slowly, still exhausted. “What is it?”

Morisawa leans up against a table that’s been pulled into the middle of the room, facing all of us. “I was thinking about it and came to the conclusion that this isn’t actually a school.”

“Hah?” I frown. “What’re you going on about?”

“Look,” He gestures towards me. “Sena, did you ever stop to wonder _why_ you had everything you needed to perform blood transfusions? _Why_ you had what you needed to stitch up and cauterize a wound? _Why_ this infirmary is stocked to the level that a hospital is?”

I rub the back of my neck. “No… What’s your point?”

“I noticed when Nagumo, Kanata, and I were leaving the main building for the lab block that there’s _watch towers_. In all four corners of the courtyard. Moreover, that metal cabinet next to far window isn’t a cabinet at all. It’s too wide, too _deep_ , has too complicated of a lock on it.”

Leo-kun asks, “Okay, so? What does that mean?”

“That means,” Morisawa points to it. “That’s a gun safe. An old one, at that. Put together: this isn’t a school. This entire island is a military installation.”

No one replies to that. I wonder, _how could I not have noticed how bizarrely well stocked this infirmary is?_ How could I not have paid attention to any of it? Morisawa walks over to the gun safe and gestures for Shinkai to follow him.

“Kanata, if you would.” Shinkai makes insanely quick work of picking the locks. The safe opens with the dull _hiss_ of air escaping. Morisawa reaches in, pulls out a large rifle. “Figured as much.”

The middle tallest first-year, Nagumo, speaks up. “Figured what?”

“This,” Morisawa handles the rifle carefully. “Is a Mark 24 sniper weapon system. Or, rather, colloquially: a standard issue military-grade sniper rifle.” He slings it over his shoulder, picks up a handgun. “This one is a Beretta PX4 Storm, a full size model, too. There should be architectural plans of the buildings in here, as well.”

Shinkai turns to him, “You have a plan in mind, don’t you?”

“Naturally.” Morisawa hands Shinkai the handgun, takes the rifle off his shoulder, slides in a small black cartridge.

“Morisawa,” I’m frowning. “How do you know about these?”

He pulls back a lever on the side with a loud _click_. “What kind of stunts do you think I do?”

**Hours remaining: 30.**

“Alright. We’ll go over this one more time.” Morisawa leans over a map taped down to the table he pulled out earlier. “To end this game quickly, we’re going to need information that only Tenshouin can give us. First and foremost, we need to lure Hibiki out and get him to tell us where Tenshouin is exactly. Now, I doubt Hibiki has moved far from where we last saw him in the lab block. Sengoku, Suou, you know what you need to do?”

Kasa-kun nods, Sengoku speaks for them. “We’ve gotta lure him out to the courtyard by the fountain.”

“Right.” Morisawa points to one of the buildings on the map. “Sengoku, Suou, after he’s in my sight range you need to get out of the way _immediately_. Sengoku, you’re more agile than Suou, so you’re gonna need to tuck and roll then clamber up the ladder to the watchtower attached to the lab block. Suou, you’re going to go the opposite direction and get into the entrance of the main building. Takamine, Nagumo?”

Nagumo speaks for them both. “I’m gonna be on the rooftop with you, while Midori-kun is waiting for Shinobu-kun in the watchtower.”

“Right.” Morisawa gestures to him. “Nagumo, you’ve got good concentration. You aim might not be too accurate, but all you need to do is get Hibiki to stop so Sengoku and Suou can get out of the way.”

“But,” Nagumo fidgets with the bottom of his tie. “Wouldn’t you want someone with better aim, like Shinkai-senpai, up there with you?”

“No,” Morisawa points over to Shinkai. “I need Kanata on the ground. This way, in the unlikely event that I miss or the bullet just barely grazes his shoulder, Kanata can overpower him. Now, Tsukinaga, Sena, you two are going to be in the entrance way with the things needed to make a tourniquet. We don’t want Hibiki bleeding out, that defeats the purpose.”

Leo-kun grabs my hand, and I reply for the two of us. “I can guarantee you that Hibiki won’t die.”

“Finally,” Morisawa gestures at all of us. “This is going to be timed down to the second, understand? Bullets travel at seven hundred ninety-three meters per second. One small misstep _will_ kill Sengoku and Suou. Everybody take a watch, and make sure they’re all in sync with each other. Go time is 1500 hours sharp.”

**Tsukasa.**

**Hours remaining: 28.**

“Shinobu-kun, are you alright?” He has the hood of his sweater up and is breathing heavily.

“I-I-I… I’m just nervous. Taichou-dono said that if we mess up we’ll die.”

“Shinobu-kun,” I grab both his hands and make him look at me. “It’s going to be fine. I’m here, and if you stumble I’ll catch you and protect you, okay?”

He squeezes my hands. “Promise?”

I free one hand and pull him close to me. “I promise.”

Our wristwatches go off with a quiet _ping ping ping!_ at the same time. We separate and I hold out my hand. Shinobu-kun takes it and we nod at one another before moving. From what Morisawa-senpai said we have _exactly_ seven minutes to find Hibiki Wataru and lure him outside the building. I take a deep breath and we start up the first staircase.

We jump up each individual stair: doing our best to make as much noise as possible. Bang on the nearest wall when we get to the second floor. Slam every classroom door open. _Try to lure out Hibiki through noise, first._ My ankles ache and my palms sting, but I continue to repeat the process up until we get to the fourth floor and Hibiki Wataru walks out of the classroom to the left of us. With this I run up and punch him in the face as hard as I can.

My knuckles pop, the skin rubs raw, skid across the tile flooring when he pushes me backwards. Shinobu-kun whimpers. The point where my shoulder connected with the floor _hurts_ but I have to keep going. I have to protect Shinobu-kun. Stand up, take a few steps back, make sure he’s following us, run down the stairs as fast as possible, look back to check every so often that he’s still following.

Sprint out the doors, past Shinkai-senpai, onto the main concourse, let go of Shinobu-kun’s hand, stop in my tracks when he starts to scream. I turn to see Hibiki Wataru holding onto the hood of his sweatshirt. Shinobu-kun struggles and I know there’s only several seconds until Morisawa-senpai pulls the trigger.

Shout, “Shinobu-kun!” then run, jump, and tackle him to the ground. Grimace when the bullet exiting Hibiki Wataru’s shoulder whizzes past my left ear to stop in the ground. Help Shinobu-kun to his feet, drag him behind me towards the watchtower, hop up onto the ladder after him, rapidly climb and climb and climb as fast as I can, pull him close to me when we’re safe.

**Izumi.**

**Hours remaining: 26.**

Currently, Morisawa has Hibiki held at gunpoint. Shinkai is standing next to him pistol in hand, stock still, with a frightening look on his face. I’ve just finished applying a tourniquet on the smoothest gunshot wound I’ve ever seen. The hole the bullet left is so… _clean_. There’s no tearing, no jagged edges, no strings of muscle in the affected area, no ripped skin, just a smooth hole through the supraspinatus in the shoulder that looks natural as though it _belongs_ there. There isn’t even any bleeding, or, at least, not yet.

The look on Morisawa’s face, quite frankly, scares the shit out of me. There’s no trace left of the usual permanent benevolence just cold, hard, genuine malice. A sort of… malevolent feeling radiates off of Morisawa and Shinkai like they could easily murder Hibiki right now and feel nothing. I don’t like it, but after what I did just over twenty-hours ago, can I really make any moral judgments if they do?

“Hibiki,” Morisawa’s voice is loaded with acid. “I have some questions for you.”

“W-what is it?” Conversely, Hibiki’s voice is full of fear.

“Where is Hasumi hiding Tenshouin?” Morisawa.

Hibiki’s face blanches. “I-I-I… I don’t…”

“Don’t fuck with me!” Morisawa spins the gun around his forefinger, grips it tightly, slams it into Hibiki’s temple. “Where the fuck is Hasumi hiding Tenshouin!? You can’t _not_ know! After Hasumi, you’re the closest of us all to Tenshouin, are you not?”

“Kanata… Chiaki-kun… What’re you going to do to Eichi?”

Morisawa and Shinkai glance at one another. Morisawa speaks for them. “Given the rifle on my back, pistols in our hands, and the axe at Kanata’s feet, what do you think we’re going to do?”

“You… you can’t…” Hibiki’s face is full of disbelief.

“What? What is it we cannot do?” Shinkai shoves the gun in the space between his belt and trouser waistband, picks up the axe. “Something, like this, for example?” He brings the axe down into Hibiki’s shoulder, Leo-kun buries his face into my neck and whimpers when Hibiki screams. “Where the fuck is Tenshouin Eichi, Wataru!? Answer and we _might_ not kill you.”

Hibiki clings to his shoulder and murmurs, “You guys… you can’t, this is wrong…”

The two lean in close to his face, with dark and sardonic smiles on their faces, say in unison. “Morality, right, and wrong… Those mean nothing to a god and an antihero.”

Hibiki gives an audible swallow. “I really don’t…”

The two step back, Shinkai drops the axe, pulls out his handgun. “Do not fuck with us!” One shot straight through the right kneecap into the ground at seven hundred ninety-three meters per second.

Hibiki falls to his knees, screams, shouts, “Keito has him holed up in the basement!”

“Thank you! One hundred points goes to contestant number one!” Morisawa looks at Shinkai, the two nod at one another, the latter wraps his hand around the former’s, both their forefingers resting on the trigger. “Oh, and that was a lie. There is no might. We are going to kill you. Consider this to be a fatal warning about what happens when you try to hurt our first-years.”

I grab Leo-kun’s hand, squeeze it tightly, shut my eyes. I know what happens next.

Morisawa and Shinkai speak in unison. “Do not fuck with Ryuseitai.”

An earsplitting _bang_. A dull _thud_. Hibiki Wataru is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that went zero to sixty real fast didn't it? after this is a quick update to my daycare au.
> 
> also: listen to me, chiaki morisawa is smart.


	7. Day Two. Hokuto: Distrust of A Few Centimeter’s Long Edge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your world is so, so much bigger than you realize, Mikachin.”

******Hours remaining: 48.**

I wonder, is there anyone I can trust anymore? Isara? Yuuki? Anzu? Are the people I used to trust even still _alive_? Sakuma-senpai is dead. Nito-senpai killed someone. Hibiki-buchou tried to kill Tomoya. Subaru… Subaru is _gone_. I swallow the lump in my throat, rub away the tears that start forming, push down my guilt and grief. I can’t break down. I have to protect Tomoya. I’ll give in to my grief later. I’ll let myself sink into despair after we’re out of here. But… will we even live through this waking nightmare we’ve been thrust into?

Can… Can I even trust _myself_? Oogami is dead because of me. Because of a revenge killing that’s meaningless to everyone but me. I wonder, what would Dad say to me? He managed to live through this nightmare. Would he have any advice to give me? Would he hold me close and comfort me while I cried? He would. I know he would. The words he said to me when I was little bubble up. _Hokuto, I know Mommy and Daddy aren’t around a lot, but that doesn’t mean we don’t love you. You’re the most precious thing we have in the entire world._

I grit my teeth. Clench my fist. Make sure the sledgehammer is still by side. It’s going to be a long, long next two days. There’s no one I can trust with Tomoya’s safety but myself. I stare ahead of me and find something off about the supply cabinet in the corner of the room across from where we’re sitting. It isn’t as tall as it should be, isn’t the color it should be, isn’t the type of metal it should be. The lock is too complicated, it’s too deep, too wide… It looks like a safe not a supply cabinet.

I carefully disentangle myself from Tomoya, pick up the sledgehammer, and go over to inspect it. There’s dust on a nameplate that makes me sneeze when I wipe it off with my hand. _Sentry Safe_. I frown. Sentry Safe? Why would there be a safe in a school? The padlock is rusted and it only takes three hard smashes with the sledgehammer to get it to fall apart. I grab the handle, turn it, brace myself for whatever lies inside, pull the door open with a soft _hiss_ from air escaping.

On the left side are over a dozen rifles. On the right side three shelves organized with the top having rectangular boxes labeled with the words _magazines—Beretta PX4,_ _Colt M16A4,_ and _Remington_ _M_ _24_ _SWS;_ the middle shelf has two dozen handguns; the bottom shelf has dozens upon dozens of small square cardboard boxes full of bullets. I take it all in for a moment. I don’t understand. Why is there a safe stocked full of guns in a school? Who put it there? What’s the point of this? Are we supposed to use these guns against one another in this ‘survival game’ we’re in? How am I supposed to use these? I glance over at Tomoya’s sleeping form. Determination swirls in my chest. It’s time for me to learn.

**Hours remaining: 46.**

I’ve figured out what goes with what now. Figured out how hard to pull the loading mechanism on the handguns. Figured out what lever to pull back on the rifles. Figured out where the safety is and how to turn it off. Figured out how to hold the rifles. Figured out how to pull out the magazines and refill them with bullets. I’m ready. I think.

“Do you know how to use those?” I whip around to see Fushimi standing over Tomoya with a gun. “If you’re not careful you’ll hurt your precious Tomoya-sama, you know.”

I hold one of the handguns firmly. Point it at Fushimi. “It would be in your best interest to back away from Tomoya.”

“Now, now, there’s no reason to be so hostile. Besides,” Fushimi gestures to the gun in my hand. “Can you even pull back the loading mechanism on that?”

“Would you like to find out?” My voice is loaded with acid. “Get away from Tomoya. Now.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I will.”

Flick the safety back on, drop the handgun, grab a rifle, put it up against my right shoulder, aim, fire. The force of the end of the rifle bouncing back and forth against my collarbone _hurts_. Tomoya wakes up with a scream, Fushimi stumbles backwards when one of the bullets rips through his left shoulder, I fly back into the wall from how hard the rifle slams into my collarbone.

“Tomoya! Hurry!” I sling the rifle across my back, pick up the handgun, grab the backpack full of more guns and ammunition, then: take hold of Tomoya’s hand and run. Drag Tomoya down a flight of stairs, down a hallway, down, down, down to find somewhere to hide. Stop at a door with the sign _Guidance Office_ , kick the door in with my right foot, ignore the throbbing from my ankle, let go of his hand, flip the large oak desk onto its side, tell Tomoya to hide behind it with me.

“H-Hokuto-senpai!” Tomoya’s voice is thick with tears. “I… I don’t understand… what happened?”

“Fushimi was going to hurt you.” Rip out and replace the rifle’s magazine. Take a deep breath. “He’s probably going to come after us.”

Tomoya whimpers. “W-what are we going to do?”

Pull back the loading mechanism, look him in the eye. “We’re going to have to fight him. We don’t have any other options.”

“Hokuto-senpai…” Footsteps make me shush him. I hold my breath. Listen closely. _Click_.

“Tomoya,” I keep my voice as quiet as possible. “No matter what happens, even if I get hurt, you need to stay behind this table, understand?”

He nods and I prepare myself for what comes next: footsteps stopping at the doorway. Take a deep breath. In one fluid movement, stand and pull the trigger. Hit the ground at the soft _kitch_ of the magazine expending all its bullets. Rip out the magazine, slam another back in, pull back the loading mechanism, grit my teeth at the dizzying ringing in my ears. _Kitch_. Sit on my knees, put the rifle up against my aching shoulder, aim, fire. The rapid back and forth of the rifle against my shoulder leaves a tingling sensation in my arms, a fresh set of bruises on my collarbone, a continuous set of sharp jolts of pain that rocket up my shoulder and into my jaw.

Hiss at the harsh burning of a bullet scraping against my cheek when I duck too slowly. Ignore the blood oozing out the ripped flesh of my face. Wait for the table to stop shuddering from the impact of bullets. Hurriedly slide more bullets into the now empty magazine. Slam it back into the rifle. Stand, aim, fire. My ears are ringing, my collarbone is so bruised it feels broken, my back molars crack from how tightly my jaw is clenched, my arms grow weak from all the tingling running up and down my bones, my ankle continues to throb, only one thought races through my mind: _I have to protect Tomoya._

**Hours remaining: 42.**

I’m not sure how long this firefight with Fushimi has lasted. The floor around us is covered in a thin layer of spent bullet casings. I’ve expended all the bullets for the automatic rifle and have been forced to fall back to the other one. Everything _hurts_. The muscles in my upper arm burn every time I pull back the loading mechanism. My right ankle burns every time I stand up. My shoulder aches every time I put the end of the rifle against it. My collarbone cracks slightly every time the end of the rifle slams back into it. My determination refuses to waver despite the pain.

I have to end this and _fast_. I slip more bullets into the magazine, a quiet _shick shick shick_ , hurriedly one after another. Grit my teeth at the searing pain that shoots up my arm when I pull back the lever. Take a deep breath. Prepare myself to stand the second I hear Fushimi’s magazine run out of bullets. _Kitch_. Immediately stand, pull the trigger. _Bang_. Rip back the loading mechanism. Fire. _Bang_. Again. _Bang_. And again. _Bang_. Crouch just enough to protect most of my body, but still be able to see over it. Wait until Fushimi comes back out from next to the doorway. Stand. One final shot, off center from the left side of his chest. Take a deep breath. One final earsplitting _bang_. He falls to the floor with a dull _thump_ followed by the clatter of metal against tile.

Sink to my knees in relief. It’s finally over. Look over to Tomoya. Tomoya who’s curled up into himself with his hands over his ears.

“Tomoya,” I reach over and pull his hands down. “Tomoya, it’s over. It’s finally over.”

After opening his eyes, he immediately pulls me close. “Oh, thank goodness, you’re okay!”

“Mostly.” The ringing in my ears gradually subsides and the dizziness that came with it passes. “Could you take a look at my right shoulder? I think I broke my collarbone.”

“Okay.” He pulls back, pulls off my tie, pulls apart the top three buttons of my shirt. Gingerly touches my shoulder. “It doesn’t look broken, but the bruises are so dark purple they look black.”

I let out a long sigh. “As long as it’s not broken I think I’ll be alright.”

“Aren’t you supposed to put ice on bruises so they heal faster or something?”

“I think so?” I’m so tired. “I’m not sure.”

“Ice will probably make it feel better.” Tomoya stands, holds out one hand, gives me a small smile. “Let’s go see if the cafeteria’s kitchen has some.”

“Yeah, let’s go do that.” I stand slowly, take his hand in mine, return the small smile. Make a point of avoiding looking at Fushimi’s body when we step out of the office. Take comfort in the warmth of his hand that tells me he’s okay. That tells me he’s _safe_. I’m not letting go of him.

**Mika.**

**Hours remaining: 39.**

Nazuna-nii is refusing to look at me. Naru-chan clings onto my hand while I cry. Everything blurs as my eyes fill with tears. I’m angry. And heartbroken. And a million other things I can’t describe.

“Na… Nazu… Nazuna-nii… wh-why?” My voice is thick and hoarse. “Why? Oshi-san… I… he… you… Just, why!? Why did you kill him!? I know it was you!”

“Mikachin, you don’t understand.”

“I understand plenty!” My voice cracks. “You… you… _hic hic…_ you killed him! What else is there to understand!?”

“Look, he was going to hurt Hajimechin and Mitsuruchin.”

“So!?” Give into a loud hiccuping sob. “What… I… _How_! How does that give you the right to _murder_ Oshi-san! You could’ve just run away!”

“You don’t get it, do you!?” Nazuna-nii snaps. “Don’t you realize what Itsuki did to me? Did to you? Did to _us_!? He didn’t treat us right, Mikachin! You’re not supposed to make someone into a doll!”

I wail. “What else am I good for, Nazuna-nii! What else could I possibly be?”

“You’re a human being! We’re not dolls, Mikachin! We’re human beings! Human fucking beings!” Nazuna-nii bursts into tears. “Mikachin, Mikachin, please, please tell me you understand. M-Mikachin… _please…_ you have to understand…”

“How… How could you leave me… leave me all alone?” Nazuna-nii pulls me close to him. I sob into his shoulder. “I don… I don’t wanna be alone! Not again… Give him back… _Please_ , Nazuna-nii, give Oshi-san back…”

“Mikachin, Mikachin, listen to me.” Nazuna-nii holds me tightly. “You’re _not_ alone. You’ll _never_ be alone, okay? Mikachin, I’m not leaving you, okay? As long as I’m alive, you’ll never be alone. Your world is so, so much bigger than you realize, Mikachin.”

“Na-Nazuna-nii…” I look up at him, still sobbing. “Do you promise? Do you promise to stay? Do you _swear_ you’re not gonna leave?”

“Mikachin,” He rubs tears off my cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. “I promise. I promise I’m staying. I _swear_ I’m not gonna leave.”

I sink to my knees. Sob. Wail. Let Nazuna-nii hold me. Let Nazuna-nii tell me everything is going to be okay. Let myself grieve.

**Hokuto.**

**Hours remaining: 36.**

I wake up to Tomoya putting a bag of ice up against the bruises on my shoulder. I straighten my legs, knees aching, ankle still throbbing sorely.

“Ah!” He grabs my hand. “Hokuto-senpai, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Really,” I can’t help but smile at him. “Tomoya, after everything that’s happened in the past two days you’re still calling me senpai?”

“Well, I…” His cheeks flush and he uses his free hand to play with his hair. “I wasn’t really sure, uhm, when it would’ve been appropriate to ask if I could drop that.”

“You goof,” I laugh, pull him close to me, relax now that Tomoya’s safe. “You could’ve stopped calling me senpai when we started dating.”

“But, wait, I… Really?”

“Of course.” He pulls at the cowlick he has. So cute. I lean forward and kiss him. “Fuck, I love you.”

His face darkens and he mumbles something along the lines of _I love you, too._ I give him a squeezing hug, laugh a little, let myself be happy. Just for a moment. I stand, grab Tomoya around the waist, spin him around in circles, revel in the fact that despite everything he’s okay. Despite all the horrible things that have happened in the past two days Tomoya is fine. He’s fine! There’s barely even a scratch on him. I set him down and something catches my attention: an unmarked, locked, reinforced steel door across from us.

“Tomoya,” I let him go and gesture to the door. “Have you looked at that?”

“Huh?” He turns and I’m certain he’s frowning. “No, I haven’t. Why?”

I worry at my lower lip. “I’m not sure why, but it gives off a strange feeling. I mean, why is it locked? Why is a door in the kitchen so heavily reinforced and padlocked?”

Tomoya shrugs, I pick up the sledgehammer at my feet, walk over. The closer I get to the door the more that feeling in the pit of my stomach grows. Yet, at the same time, curiosity drives me closer and makes me want to find out _what_ is down there. I use the sledgehammer to destroy the lock, set it down, finger at the handgun shoved in my belt, open the door. It lets out a soft _hiss_ as air escapes for the first time in what has to be years. I swallow hard, gesture for Tomoya to follow me, carefully start going down the staircase in front of me.

The stairs are dimly lit and the lack of light amplifies the sense of unease and danger bubbling up into my throat. I frown when we get to the bottom. Opposed to the staircase leading to the kitchen, the room we enter is incredibly well lit and looks like some sort of medical laboratory. There’s chairs with leather belt restraints, gurneys, cabinets well stocked with bandages, stands for IV bags, and… bile bursts up into the back of my throat. On a table next to one of the chairs is what I recognize as the tools to perform a lobotomy. A thin, meter long, brilliantly shining, grey metal stick resembling an ice pick. Lying next to it: a hammer.

I cover my mouth with my hand and swallow back the urge to be sick. There’s no way that a doctor in Japan would _ever_ do something so horrendous and dangerous to another Japanese citizen. It’s just not possible.

“Hokuto-sen… Hokuto?” I turn to Tomoya and see him holding up a dusty, green file folder full of yellowed pages. “What’s this?”

I walk over and take the file from him. The label reads: ジョーンズ、マーク. 昭和の14-16年、戦争の囚人. Bile bursts up again as the meaning of this hits me. _Jones Mark, 1939-42, Prisoner of War._ Horror overtakes my curiosity.

“T-Tomoya… Do you know what a lobotomy is?” My voice is quiet. Hoarse.

“Kind of…” He plays with his hair. “Why?”

“We… the Imperial Japanese Army…” A dozen photos slip out of the file folder. Yellowing, black and white, horrifying photographs. I sink to my knees. A dozen photographs detailing a lobotomy being performed. Bile takes over and I dry heave. I can’t help but stare. The photos were taken in such a way that it’s almost as though I was _there_ when it happened. I can almost hear the leather straining against vigorous attempts to get free, a muffled scream, doctors talking amongst themselves, the clatter of tools, and then… _smack_. The pick being inserted behind the eye, into the skull, the struggle ending as the frontal lobe is split into two, the disgusting wet _schlick_ of the pick being pulled out, the quiet _gatan_ of it being neatly placed back onto the table.

If there were anything left in my stomach I would vomit. A single set of thoughts reverberates over and over: _did Dad see this? Dad, where are you? Dad, do you know I’m here? Dad, can you help me? Dad, please, come get me. Dad, please, save me._ With a deep shuddering breath, one last dry heave, and a quiet whimper everything turns black.

**Tomoya.**

**Hours remaining: 32.**

Hokuto-senpai is _heavy_. I don’t know what, exactly, happened that made him freak out over those pictures in that file folder I found, but he passed out. Waiting around down there got boring and I don’t think he’d react real well waking up in that basement place, so, I gave in to dragging him up the stairs. I miss the next stair and fall backwards, smacking my head into the concrete, then let out a loud hiss followed by a louder _oh, god dammit!_

I readjust my grip on his upper arms and start going again. My progress has been so slow that I’m becoming increasingly agitated. It’s been an hour and a half. I’ve only just now started the second flight of stairs. I curse and mutter to myself. Why is he so _heavy_? Is it nothing but pure muscle? I lose my footing again and burst into frustrated tears. I give a soft _hic hic!_

I’m so sick of being here! First that damn Masked Pervert goes and tries to kill me! _Then_ we’re stuck running around this labyrinth trying not to die or get hurt! There’s that whole gunfight with Fushimi-senpai, and now _this_! I’m just so… so… so _tired_. I rip off my blazer, roll it into a ball, press it up against my face and scream. I scream and scream and scream until my voice is hoarse and it hurts to swallow. I scream until I’ve finally expended all my frustration and can start moving again.

I tug at Hokuto-senpai with a loud grunt, struggling to keep hold of his arms, but determined to get the hell out of here.

**Hours remaining: 30.**

I peek my head outside the doorway leading outside the kitchen. I can’t hear anything or anyone nearby. I pull Hokuto-senpai onto my back and move as quickly as I can without making any noise. Where should I go? Should I stay on the lower floors? Should I go over to the lab block? I’m not sure. The guidance office is out of the question. What about the teachers’ lounge? Would that work? I think about it carefully. There’s bound to be enough desks to pile up against the doors so that we’ll be safe. Or, at least, safe for a little while.

I readjust how I have Hokuto-senpai on my back and start moving. It should be somewhere on this floor. Exhausted, physically worn out, upper arms burning, footsteps shaky, slow, slow, slow. It’s creepily silent. The silence is worrying me. I don’t know why, but… I have this feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that this horrible, deafening silence doesn’t signal anything good. The silence that’s so thick in the air makes me yearn for the cacophony of horrible, pain-filled screams that had been reverberating throughout this godforsaken island we’re stuck on.

I stop for a minute, try to catch my breath, wondering how much time is left until we can go home. I heave as I readjust Hokuto-senpai on my back, glance up, and let out a massive sigh of relief when I find the sign reading _Teachers’ Office_. I’m almost there.

**Hours remaining: 28.**

The teachers’ lounge is a wreck. There’s blood smears along one wall where it looks like someone was leaning up against it; the opposite wall has a large pile of couch cushions, pillows, and blankets spread on the floor that were clearly slept in; desks are turned over, stacked against one of the doors, covered in bloody hand prints. I set Hokuto-senpai down as gently as possible on the big cushion-pillow-blanket conglomerate and get to work.

**Hours remaining: 25.**

I stand, transfixed, watching, waiting, bridled with anticipation. Hibiki-buchou was hit in the shoulder with a bullet. Now he’s being threatened with a gun, large knife, and an ax. It seems like I’m watching an Indie movie with actors I only sort of recognize from something I’ve already seen. The plot doesn’t make any sense. It looks like they’re demanding information. He refuses. Gets hit in the temple with the butt end of the gun. I wonder, why am I so transfixed? Why am I unable to look away from such a horrible scene? I only raise my eyebrows when the gun is raised, the two interrogators wrap their hands around the handhold, and what has to be a horrifying exchange occurs.

I clutch at my shirt. Eyes wide. Breath hitched. It’s in slow motion. They pull the trigger. The gunpowder is spent. There’s a small flash. The bullet rockets out of the chamber. Slowly, oh so slowly, the bullet connects with Hibiki-buchou’s forehead. Goes right through his skull. Slams into the concrete. I swallow hard. Process what I just saw. Hibiki Wataru is dead.

I’ll never be dressed up against my will ever again. I’ll never be misled about what a play is about ever again. I’ll never have pictures of myself in costumes posted online without my permission ever again. I’ll never… I’ll never… I’ll never, ever…

I take a deep breath. “I’m free.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, but its finally back folks! and it just gets worse from here. also, kudos to whoever can tell me what song the title comes from (hint: its by neru ft rin)  
> huge disclaimer: the only accurate part of the lobotomy bit is the timeframe. i dont know much if at all about the japanese imperial army so having POWs and doing experiments on them is just for dramatic effect


End file.
